Notes:  The dialogue of the conversation with Jecht in the locks is verbatim from the US release of Final Fantasy X.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

Braska's Journey
Bevelle – Chapter Three – Weapon of Choice

"Ahh..Free at last!"   Jecht stood outside the locks facing the water of the Via Purifico, stretching.  The man from Zanarkand didn't know it, but he'd been fairly close to being tossed into the water and left to fend for himself against the guardian worm. 

"Now, Jecht…I am in your hands until we reach Zanarkand."  Braska came to stand next to the disheveled blitz player.  The man needed a bath, a shave, and his clothes washed.

"Right, right," Jecht said absently.  This man was a ticket out of here and could get him home.  That was all that was important to the blitz star.  "So, what's a Summer-ner, anyway?"

Since the man from Zanarkand was no longer a prisoner, the Crusader turned off the sphere.  She was a little shocked by Jecht's question and took it upon herself to tell the obviously Sin affected man the answer.  "I am sure you will remember in time.  A Summoner is one granted the power of the Aeon by the Fayth.  They go forward to fight Sin and bring The Calm to Spira."

Auron stood nearby and frowned; his eyes narrowing.  This man did not have the memory loss associated with Sin.  His odd insistence that he was from Zanarkand, and the fact that he was rude, did not add up to toxin stress.  Something was amiss.  He grudgingly began to wonder if his Lord was right.

"You may stay with me until we depart," Braska said to Jecht.  "My home is small, and space is limited, but I am sure that we will manage.  It will only be for a few days."

"My Lord, perhaps that is not wise," the warrior interjected.  Auron did not like the idea of this strange man staying with Braska and Yuna.  "I have an extra room at my home.  He may stay with me."  The monk's demeanor and the Call screamed out anxiety.

"No, Auron."  Braska turned and smiled at his friend. "I have much to discuss with Jecht.  While you studied with me in the Hall for quite some time, it was not your strong suit.  I have done much more investigation into the records regarding Zanarkand.  Having him with me will allow me to question him – and he may, in turn, question me.  I am sure you understand."

Auron could not tell his Summoner what to do, but he was going to make his opinion known.  "My Lord, if I might have a moment with you in private."  The warrior glanced at Jecht.  He knew that Braska would sense his concern.

The Summoner sighed.  "All right, Auron."  He turned to Jecht and said, "I will only be a moment."

Jecht reached an arm up to rub at his sore neck.   He shrugged.  "Whatever."

Braska led Auron through the archway and into the hall a few paces from where Jecht stood.  He turned to face his friend.  "Well.  What is it, Auron?"

"I apologize, Braska, but I cannot stand here and say nothing!  That man reeks of sake, he is rude, uncouth, and his manner of dress is barbaric.  You are talking about letting him stay in your home with your child!  I must insist that he stay with me where I can keep an eye on him."  Auron's body language was stiff and his voice was practically a hiss.

Reaching out, Braska put his hands on the monk's shoulders.  "You have no idea how much it pleases me that you care for me, and for Yuna, so much.  But, I will not be dissuaded in this, Auron."  Blue green eyes searched the dark brown ones before him.   "Please…trust me." 

The warrior slumped slightly and sighed.  "I do trust you, Braska.  It is that man I do not trust.  At least promise to bring him to my home during the day."  Auron was reaching now for any reason to keep Jecht away from Braska and Yuna.  "I will need to gauge the man's fighting skills and obtain him weapons to ensure he will not slow us down." 

Braska chuckled and shook his head.  He knew Auron was stalling but he did have a valid point.  They knew nothing of Jecht's capabilities apart from the fact that his brute strength had enabled him to take out six Crusaders bare handed - a quite impressive feat for any man.  "I agree.  He will need a weapon.  You are the logical choice to determine his skills and select such a thing.  I will bring him to your home after the mid-day meal tomorrow.  I will spend the rest of the day with Yuna while the two of you make decisions regarding his outfitting."  Braska hesitated a moment before continuing.  "Perhaps you will eat with us?  You could bring Jecht back and stay for the evening meal…"

Auron smiled slightly and said something surprising.  "I will think on it, Braska."

In a year of asking, the warrior had never even said he would consider eating a meal in Braska's home.  The Summoner smiled widely with happiness.  "Really?"

"Yes, really."  Auron's eyes darted back to the scruffy man past the archway.  "If it means I can keep an eye on that ruffian, I would make friends with an Al Bhed – no offense."

The Summoner laughed heartily.  "Oh, Auron!  None taken…"  He removed his hands from the warrior's shoulders and gestured toward the archway.  "Jecht is waiting."

--------------------------

As promised, Braska arrived the next afternoon with Jecht in tow.  The man from Zanarkand was boisterous and familiar with Braska, but seemed uncomfortable around Auron.

"Auron, what are your plans?" Braska inquired.

The warrior had been kneeling in meditation position as he waited for his guests' arrival.  He was fully dressed with a complete compliment of armor and one of his massive swords strapped to his back.  "I will take Jecht to Wellak today.  My family arsenal is extensive, but the Master at Arms will have weapons and accoutrements that I do not."  Auron stood up and was now lacing his boots as he discussed his plans with his Lord.  "Additionally, there is much more space at the temple training facility and access to healers should it be necessary.  I would not want you to remain and take time away from Yuna, my Lord."

Braska turned to face Jecht.  "Well, I will leave you in Auron's highly capable hands, Jecht."  He smiled brightly at the blitzer.  The two had spent many hours in conference the night before and it was clear to the Summoner that the man, indeed, knew little or nothing about Spira and its history.  His tales of the great machina city of Zanarkand were amazing and almost unbelievable. 

**A world with no Sin.  A land of peace and idleness.  A land where one lives on the water without fear…**

"Sure, Braska.  Whatever you say."  Jecht balled a hand into a fist and pushed against it with the other to crack the knuckles.  "I'm always up for a good fight."  The man grinned widely.  "I don't know about a weapon though.  I've never needed anything but my fists to get me out of a jam, and I don't see where I want to change that."

Auron raised his eyebrows.  This man was insolent and it rubbed him the wrong way.  "You'll need one quickly enough once we begin the Journey.  One does not kill fiends without weapons and magic."  The warrior crossed his arms over his chest with authority.  He growled,  "And, no offence, but you do not seem the type to be a mage."

The Summoner suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.  This posturing between Auron and Jecht was comical and bordered on the absurd.  What was it about the two of them that made them instinctively want to fight?  "Now, Jecht, in this case you should listen to Auron.  He may be young, but he has trained many fighters in his time, and is considered to be one of the most skilled warriors in Bevelle.  Our world is very different from the Zanarkand you told me of.  Even if you decide not to use the weapon, it would be wise to be prepared – no?"  Braska's tone was smooth and designed to calm both men.  It seemed to work. 

"Like I said, Braska," Jecht replied.  "Whatever you say goes." 

"Good.  I will leave you both to it."  The three turned and headed out the door.  As they crossed through the moss garden and reached the footbridge, Braska tentatively ventured an inquiry.  "Auron, you mentioned yesterday that you might join us for dinner…"

Auron almost winced.  He didn't want to turn down the offer, but he had to.  "I am sorry, Lord.  Kinoc has said he will visit with Emerline tonight and I may not have another chance to try and bridge that distance."  His voice was sad.  "I truly am sorry.  I do want to come."

Braska stopped leading the group and turned to face the Guardian.  "I understand, Auron.  There will be many nights of the Journey for you and I to share a meal.  Though I would like for you to meet Yuna one day, attempting to repair your friendship with Kinoc is much more important.  I wish you luck."

"Thank you."

The trio arrived at the lime washed wall that separated Auron's home from the street.  "Well, Jecht, I will see you this evening."  The Summoner smiled and performed the sign of prayer as he prepared to depart.  "Stay close to Auron.  The temple is a very large place and it would not do for you to become lost."

-----------------------------

Auron led Jecht, brusquely, through the walkways to the temple.  A few Crusaders greeted him as he moved with purpose toward his goal.  He simply waved in return. 

Jecht kept up with the younger man easily.  He was a sportsman and, in spite of the fact that he'd trained with less frequency than normal recently and hit the bottle a bit often, his body was still in excellent condition.  In no time, the two were outside the massive iron bound doors that led to Wellak's training mats and the armory.

~~Braska wasn't kiddin'.  This place is huge!~~

The warrior monk pushed the doors open to the sound of ringing steel.  It had been weeks since he last taught, and he was forbidden to assist his Weapons Master now as part of his Censure.  Though he had a new life now as a Guardian, he missed his work, and being in the training area held a pang of loss.

Auron closed the door after Jecht stepped inside.  The man from Zanarkand's eyes darted around the room; trying to nonchalantly take in the display before him.  

A group of young boys, all dressed identically in white gi, were moving fluidly through a kata as a man in full battle dress led them.  Another man moved between the students and pulled some of the youngest aside when they made errors in form, correcting position and then returning the student to the formation when satisfied.

Past this group, several pairs of fighters sparred.  They danced intricately around each other with swords, knives, staves, spears, and other weapons – attempting to make contact with their opponents.  Beyond them, a group of three young men, swords in hand, were being shouted at by an old guy in a breastplate.  Jecht watched as Auron grinned and pointed toward the white haired firebrand saying, "That is Wellak.  Be respectful, Jecht, or he will knock you on your backside."

The man from Zanarkand grunted.  Auron's countenance had changed from the moment he reached the door.  He somehow seemed taller to the blitzer.  He realized, from years of competitive sport, that they were officially on Auron's  'home turf.'  It made the older man a bit uncomfortable.  Bravado was in order.  "Right!  That geezer couldn't touch me."

Auron arched an eyebrow.  "Oh really?  You think so?"  This man needed to be taught some manners.  "Come."

Several people stopped to stare as Auron and Jecht crossed the mats to approach Wellak.  The warrior gritted his teeth and ignored it.  They were likely being stared at as much for the audacity of Auron walking around the temple after Censure, as they were for Jecht and his outlandish looks. 

//Ignore it.  You are a Guardian and have every right to be here.//

The warrior came to a halt near his former instructor.  He knelt on the mats and touched his head to the floor, as he did for many years under Wellak's tutelage.  "Sensei, I come to ask a favor."

Jecht was confused.  Auron was kneeling on the ground and acting like this octogenarian was some kind of man to be worshiped.  He crossed his arms over his chest and waited to see how it played out.

"Get up, Auron.  Until a few weeks ago, you were my assistant.  You don't need to do that with me, son."  Wellak left his students to continue their sword kata and stood over Auron.  "What do you need?"

"Lord Braska has requested that this man accompany us on the Journey."  Auron sat up.  "I must determine his fighting skills and to procure him weapons."

The old man looked over to Jecht and trained an appraising eye on the blitzer.  "What is your name?"

"Jecht," the blitzer said.

"And with what weapons have you been trained?  What is your profession?"

"I've never needed anything but my fists."  Jecht's tone was arrogant.  "And I play blitz."

Wellak arched an eyebrow.  This information seemed incongruous.  The man was built like a stone block.  Unless you were a Ronso, blitzers were compact and fast.  "A blitzer?  You do not look like a blitzer to me."

Jecht's eyes narrowed.  "What's that supposed ta mean, old man?"

The two looked at each other as Wellak addressed Auron.  "And the Lord Braska wants this…man…to accompany you?"  He grunted.  "What on Spira for?"

Auron rose from his kneeling position and said to Wellak, "He claims he is from Zanarkand and my Lord believes him."

Wellak's eyes shot open as he turned to face Auron.  "This is the man from the locks?"

"'Excuse me.  I'm standin' right here, buddy."  Jecht was getting tired of people talking about him like he wasn't in the room.  It had been going on for several days now and there seemed to be no sign of stopping.  If people were going to talk about him, they were supposed to use a tone of awe and reverence, not disdain and incredulity. 

Wellak completely ignored Jecht.  "Well, this should prove interesting, Auron.  I suspect you have a plan and do not necessarily wish my assistance in this."

The warrior nodded.  "Yes, Sir.  However, I would be honored if you wished to observe our sparing."

The old man turned to face Jecht who was seething at being ignored.  "You, will come with me."  Wellak turned and headed for the armory.

Jecht didn't know what to do.  He looked at Auron, who was standing in the middle of a mat looking rather smug.  The blitzer glared at the monk.  "What the hell is this place anyway?  What is it you do?"

"I am a Warrior Monk."  Auron took three steps toward Jecht and got into his body space.  His voice was low and controlled.  Anyone that knew the warrior would know that his patience was just about gone.  "My sole purpose in life, as Guardian to my Lord Braska, is to look after his safety and to ensure that he reaches Zanarkand alive to obtain the Final Aeon and defeat Sin.  I have trained in fighting arts and magical skills since the age of five in this temple."  He pointed in the direction of the armory.  "Now follow my Master at Arms so we may determine a weapon for you.  I will not have you be unprepared and cause injury to my Lord."

Auron and Jecht stared each other down.  The blitzer raked the younger man over, then thought about Braska.  He didn't like this 'warrior monk' much, but the Summoner was the only person that had believed him since this nightmare started a few days ago.  There was something about Braska that Jecht couldn't define – something so open and honest.  It was disconcerting.  The whole damn situation was bewildering and he hated feeling out of control.  It rubbed him the wrong way.  Now, Auron was standing here trying to push him around and he was starting to feel intimidated. Jecht detested feeling intimidated.  The fact was, he didn't have a lot of choices at the moment.  If he wanted to find a way home, he was stuck with Auron.  The monk was a package deal with the Summoner and, like it or not, it was the only option he had right now. 

"Fine," Jecht growled.  He put his cards on the table.  "Let's just be clear, Auron.  I don't like you.  You don't like me.  I'm not looking for a damn thing but a way home.  I find another besides you and your Summoner, and you can get to Zanarkand how ever you fuckin' want.  Until then, stay the hell out of my way."

Jecht turned on his heel and stalked off after Wellak.  Auron watched through narrowed eyes as the form receded.  He glared at the back of the man from Zanarkand.

//He may be an uncouth barbaric jackass, but at least I know where I stand.//

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~