Notes: The dialogue of the conversation outside the gates of Bevelle is taken directly from the US FFX release. There have been no changes, whatsoever, to the script.
Also, sorry for the delay. I've been running after Mr. Plot Bunny on this one. He keeps giving me character development – the little rat. I think I've got him firmly caged now. ^_^
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Braska's Journey
Macalania – Chapter One – Into the Woods
The trio exited the temple well before dawn. Braska took the lead, saying he had someone to see before leaving the city. The Summoner made his way to the remains of the now destroyed docks. A few vagrants and ladies of the night were loitering in the area. Braska stopped to talk with one of the women. He apparently knew her.
Auron stood to one side and waited patiently. He wasn't really surprised. His Summoner had ministered to these people for several years and kept in close contact with some of his former flock. Though the warrior admired Braska's dedication and idealism, his concern was not for those less fortunate. His concern was for his selfless charge. The man often overextended himself in his efforts to be of help to others. On the Journey, the group would need the Braska's healing skills and magical abilities to survive. Auron knew he would have to keep close watch on the Summoner to be sure he put his own health and welfare first.
Jecht wasn't sure what to make of the situation. Watching the scene in curiosity, he hung back - a pack slung over his shoulder and the modified blitzball tucked under his other arm. As Braska spoke to the woman, he began to idly play with the ball. After a time, the Summoner nodded his head and handed something to her before performing the sign of prayer. The woman returned it and the group set out for the Highbridge.
"So, Braska, what's that about?" Jecht moved to walk next to the priest, the blitzball spinning on his index finger.
"Nothing really," Braska replied. "I let Prak know that I was leaving and that I had made arrangements with an alchemist in the market."
The man from Zanarkand looked puzzled. "What kinda arrangements?"
"Well, Jecht, I wanted to be sure that Prak and her friends would have access to healers." Braska began, "I suppose I am rather different from many people at the temple..."
Auron chuckled a bit at the priest's understatement. The Summoner glanced over his right shoulder at his young Guardian and shot him a look. The warrior responded by arching an eyebrow and shrugging.
"You see, I believe that all people are equal, Jecht." Braska looked at the blitzer intently and they moved through the streets of the still sleeping city. "There are many who think that women like Prak are not worthy in some way. They feel they are beneath the notice of God. These same people also despise the Al Bhed race. They say that because they recover ancient machina and use them, Sin returns to our world to punish us. I do not believe such teachings."
"Wait a sec." Jecht stopped spinning the ball. He tucked it under an arm and then reached back to rub his neck. Head cocked to one side, he said, "Your wife, Rain, she was Al Bhed. Right?"
Braska nodded at the scruffy man. "Yes. The Church was very unhappy, as were Rain's people, about our union. It was not always easy, but we loved each other." Braska smiled and looked off in the distance. This voice dropped a notch and sounded wistful. "Sometimes, that is enough."
Walking in silence, Auron listened closely to the conversation. He was surprised at how much Jecht seemed to know about Braska. A relationship seemed to have developed between the two in just a few short spans. The warrior wasn't sure how he felt about the situation. He didn't like the blitzer, plain and simple. Auron wasn't convinced that Jecht was really from Zanarkand. It was too unbelievable; too much of a coincidence.
//Braska is too trusting. I need to keep an eye on this brute.//
The party reached the edge of the city proper just before the break of dawn. Lost in their own thoughts, they walked past the last of the watchmen. The gates were opened and the group exited the walls that protected Bevelle and its inhabitance.
Jecht dug around in his pack. Grinning, he darted ahead of Braska and Auron. He had something small and blue in his hand when he turned around. The man from Zanarkand, moving backward down the pavement, had activated the recording sphere in his hand.
Auron sounded agitated as he questioned Jecht. "What are you taking?" The warrior hated being recorded.
//What does he think he is doing? When did he get one of those? This is juvenile!//
"Well, you said it was gonna be a long trip." Jecht grinned, training the sphere on Auron and Braska as they walked toward him. "We'll be seein' a lot of neat things, right?" Jecht gestured boisterously with his free hand. His voice was loud in the early morning air, echoing against the glass and stone that lined the walkway outside the city gates. It grated on Auron's nerves. "So, I thought I'd record it all in this. To show my wife and kid, you know."
//Wife and kid? He has a wife!? And a child?!//
Auron stopped in his tracks. For some reason, the thought that this man had a family bothered him. It was irrational, but it made him angry. Frustrated with himself, the situation, and his absurd emotional reaction Auron got curt with Jecht. "This is no pleasure cruise!"
Jecht stopped as well, but ignored him. "Hey, Braska," he called out. The Summoner had overtaken him and was leaving the bickering pair behind. He stopped when Jecht called his name. The man from Zanarkand turned to face Braska and asked, "Ain't this supposed to be a grand occasion?" The blitzer didn't understand why they were leaving so early to start. It didn't make much sense to him. Little Yuna was still asleep in her bed and Braska hadn't bothered to wake her. He thought it was strange, and voiced his opinion in terms that made sense to him. "Where's the cheering fans? The crying women?"
~~Hell, I get more of a send-off at the dock of my houseboat before I go off to practice. We're supposed to be savin' the world. You'd think somebody'd care.~~
Braska slumped forward a bit shook his head – the long metal extension of his headdress bobbing as he did so. He looked pensive.
**A grand occasion. They do not even bother to wish us well on our Journey. Perhaps it is for the best.**
"This is it." Straightening, Braska turned to face Jecht as Auron strode past them both and down the walkway. "Too many goodbyes – people think twice about leaving."
"Hmm. If you say so," Jecht grunted. Nothing about this world made sense. "Well, it better be a lot more colorful when we come back. A parade for Braska, vanquisher of Sin!"
Braska shook his head and laughed a bit at Jecht's comment. He knew the man from Zanarkand couldn't possibly know what he had just implied. The idea of people cheering his death seemed so ironic.
**I suppose there will be quite a celebration when Sin is gone…when I am gone…**
Sighing, he said sadly, "We should go. Day will break soon." The Summoner, lost in his thoughts, turned abruptly and walked off after Auron.
Jecht turned off the sphere and hurried to catch up.