Braska's Journey
Guadosalam – Chapter One – Ghosts and Guado
Braska's eyes fluttered as he struggled to wake; shaking off the ether. His body ached, but it was only a minor inconvenience. A hot shower and a hi-potion would chase the rest of the effects of the lightening strike from his bones. Sadly, it wasn't going to do much for his wounded pride.
"Hey. How ya doin?"
A turn of his head brought Jecht, and the rest of the room, into focus. It was small; two beds separated by a tiny table and certainly not the best in the house. A sleeping mat was rolled neatly and stacked in the room's only chair. He vaguely recalled Auron's protests to the innkeeper that the accommodations were unbecoming for a man of Braska's station. There had been an apologetic response that it was all there was – the in was nearly full. Fuzzy memories of being stripped of his soaked clothing, given a potion, and cosseted in bed like a child were all that followed.
"I feel…stupid."
Jecht smiled and chuckled at the comment, but his face held concern. "You need anything?"
Braska shifted and sat up in bed. He didn't really feel like getting up, but there was no point in hiding. "Just a hot shower and something to eat. Where is Auron?"
"He's off tradin' some of the stuff we found when we killed those lizard things…murussu right? Said he wanted to restock and get me another ball if he could." Jecht rubbed the back of his neck and stood. He stepped over and extended his hand toward Braska. "Lemme give you a hand getting' up."
Shaking his head, Braska threw his legs over the side of the mattress. "No, really, I am fine."
"You took a heck of a hit. Ya sure?"
Braska flashed a smile and waved off the assistance. "I am not as fragile as Auron seems to think me, but thank you for offering."
"Uh, look. About Auron." Jecht shifted and cracked his knuckles in a gesture of obvious discomfort. "I don't want ya to get mad, but I think he aughta take a turn at watch. He's right. I got no idea what I'm doin."
Braska could tell the confession of ineffectiveness made Jecht rankle. It was clear it cost the man something to admit weakness. However, Braska felt a surge of quiet pleasure at Jecht's words. It seemed that a bond was forming in the unlikely trio – one of mutual protection. "Jecht, I have faith in you. We will manage."
Surprisingly, Jecht didn't let the subject drop. "I dunno…"
"Well, I do." Braska knew now was a time to try and build Jecht's confidence. The man needed it or he wouldn't retreat to alcohol as an escape. Jecht was obviously feeling alone and isolated. Braska wanted to make him feel included in every way possible – to let Jecht know he had a friend. "Besides, we are not far from Guadosalam. There will some formalities to observe when we arrive, but they will not last long. After I present myself to Maester Jyscal, we will be free to rest. I intend to stay an extra day so I may visit my wife. By then, Auron should have had enough time to consider his actions and I may lift the restrictions."
Jecht frowned in response. Something about the conversation seemed out of sync. It didn't make sense. "You're wife? But, you said she's dead."
Braska tilted his head slightly, studying Jecht's reactions with curiosity. "Yes."
The furrow on Jecht's brow deepened. "How can ya visit someone that's dead?"
Blinking in surprise, Braska tried to find a starting point. "Jecht, do you not have some traditions in Zanarkand regarding your dead? Do you not visit those you loved to remember them?"
"Well, I guess so. I mean, there's a buncha things people think about what happens after you die." An arm went unconsciously to the back of Jecht's neck. He rubbed at it in an agitated motion. "I don't believe 'em, but I figure everybody's got a right to do their own thing. I mean, you die and that's that. What's the point in pretending or going to see some hole in the ground?"
Braska leaned his weight forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "Jecht, Rain is dead but what my people believe about death is not simply an idea. We know that the spirit of a person, their soul, lives on. We know this because we may visit them in Guadosalam."
Jecht's eyes went wide and he shuddered. "You mean dead people live there?! You're gonna go to some place full of ghosts?!" The petrified look that flashed across Jecht's face. It was only moment, but in that instant the dread and fear was plain as day.
Braska was confused by Jecht's reaction. It was clear that the man was truly afraid. The fact that he had shifted his body position, clamped down on his emotions, and crossed his arms defensively across his chest in a haughty look of bravura to cover it up certainly wasn't fooling the Summoner. "Jecht, it is the Farplane. The souls are at peace. They will not attack you or become fiends. For that matter, they are not able to communicate – they simply appear. There is nothing to be concerned about."
Jecht's expression said it all. He thought Braska was out of his mind.
"If it frightens you, simply to do not go." Braska purposely used a soothing tone of voice, trying to put Jecht at ease. "Since I doubt Auron will accompany me, you are welcome to stay behind as well."
"It doesn't frighten me." Jecht rankled at the accusation. He glared at Braska, suspicious and angry. "And, why wouldn't Auron go?"
"That is something I think you should ask him, Jecht." Braska stood and pulled on the robe draped at the foot of the bed. "I will shower now."
Jecht didn't move, he just stood there staring at Braska. He kept trying to understand – to make sense of it all – but he just couldn't. Every time he thought he understood – every time Spira started to make some kind of sense or he found some small thing that seemed to connect where he came from to this hell hole - something happened to show him just how different it was. Frustrated, he turned his back on Braska moved for the door.
Braska frowned. He had managed to upset Jecht and didn't want the conversation to end on such a bad note. Calling after the retreating blitzer he said, "Jecht. I really would like for you to go with me. Perhaps, the Farplane is something one must see to truly understand."
Not bothering to turn around, Jecht replied gruffly, "I'll think about it."
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The trek from the shop to Guadosalam was fairly uneventful; if you want to call intermittent fights with things out of a horror film and dodging lightening strikes normal the way Braska and Auron did. For Jecht, on the other hand, it was disturbing.
His conversation with Braska played over and over in his head as the tramped through the mud. When he left the room, he'd gone out to the shop area and tried to talk to Auron. Braska had said that Auron wouldn't go to this "Farplane" and Jecht wanted to know why.
Jecht was used to getting what he wanted.
Auron wasn't having any of it and didn't care what Jecht wanted. All business, the warrior gruffly haggled the shopkeeper down to the last thin copper for the items they required. Potions, travel rations, and a new ball left the gil sack quite light; even after selling some of the things they had found in the woods. As a result, Auron was not in the mood for chitchat.
The exchange started off with a Jecht offering information about Braska – something he felt to be a rather neutral topic. Instead, this seemed to irritate Auron. Things went from bad to worse when the young man turned over the new ball and began, immediately, to instruct Jecht "not to loose this one."
Already on edge, it took all Jecht had not to just haul off and hit the pompous monk. Instead, he jerked the ball out of Auron's hands and stalked outside. For some unknown reason, Auron didn't follow him. It was loud and wet outside but, frankly, Jecht could have cared less as long as he didn't have to listen to another condescending word out of Auron's mouth.
He was so absorbed in thought that he lost track of time. Sitting on a crate under the shelter of an eave, Jecht just kept thinking about home. Nothing could be more different from Zanarkand in every way than this place. There, you didn't have to walk everywhere – you took a boat, or a tram, or a lift, or a scooter, or even a teleport pad. Everyone knew him. He couldn't step off his boat without a throng of people crushing against him to beg for his autograph. Nobody talked down to him or treated him the way Auron did. If he wanted something, he rarely had to pay. Star-struck blitz fans were all but too happy to give just about anything to "The Great Jecht." Home wasn't as nice as it used to be when it was just he and the wife - the kid did nothing but whine these days – but his still missed the boy fiercely. Surely, given time, the kid would shape up, quit crying, and start showing some promise with a ball.
Lost in reverie, Jecht nearly jumped when Braska came out of the inn and touched him on the shoulder. The group was quickly underway and before long, they were in their first scuffle. Fighting got Jecht's mind off of home and what this "Farplane" might be like. He kept having strange visions of wraithlike beings floating in air – some dark cold dank place full of transparent disembodied specters. It was the stuff of children's nightmares, but then so were the fiends that kept attacking them. At this point, Jecht couldn't rule out anything, even things he thought of as fairytales.
The rain slowed to a drizzle as they exited the plains and approached the city of Guadosalam. At first, Jecht didn't realize they had arrived at their destination. The ground sloped upward slightly as it neared a wide gap in what looked like a mudslide. The gap turned out to be a tunnel, the sides and arches of which were supported by strange vine-like veins coated in a glowing green substance.
Barley a half dozen steps into the tunnel, the group was approached by the strangest person Jecht had ever seen. Huge pale hands descended from the voluminous sleeves of a formal coat, the nails sharpened into pointy tips. Thick unruly blue hair sprouted from the man's head in snakelike writhing clumps. Jecht half expected the stuff to start moving. The blitzer immediately went on the alert and dropped his new ball into his hand. If ever something looked like a walking zombie, this was it.
Braska noticed Jecht's reaction and quickly moved to step between the man from Zanarkand and the guado. It was someone with whom Braska was familiar – Tromell, personal assistant to Maester Jyscal. He had met the guado once before during an official function at the Bevelle Temple.
Smiling, Braska bowed and performed the sign of prayer. "It is good to see you again, Tromell Guado. I hope that Yevon has smiled his favor upon your and your master since our last meeting."
Tromell returned the sign of prayer. "Lord Braska, you are welcome in Guadosalam. Lord Jyscal has been expecting your arrival with great anticipation and has prepared a feast in your honor." The guado then looked toward Jecht and seemed chagrinned. "My Lord, forgive me. We were not aware that you had two guardians. I am afraid that we do not have accommodations at the manor for them both."
While the guado were a reclusive group that rarely mixed with other races, within their own society hospitality was prized. For a host to be unable to provide lodging for their guests was an extreme loss of face. Knowing that Tromell's admission of this deficiency meant great dishonor for Maester Jyscal, Braska did his best to smooth the path. "That is quite all right, Tromell. Do not concern yourself or the Maester with my guardians. They have their own business while in Guadosalam." Braska shot a quick look toward Auron. "They had planned to stay at the Inn so as to not be an inconvenience to myself or Lord Jyscal."
"Of course, Lord Braska. As you say, so shall it be" The guado looks extraordinarily relieved. He bowed low. "Will you accompany me to the manor now, My Lord?"
Braska nodded briskly and then turned to face Auron. "Auron, I will send a message to you at the Inn when I am ready to depart. I will see my wife just before we go."
Bowing formally in response, Auron received the directives in silence. He didn't like being separated from his Summoner and liked the idea of staying at the Inn with Jecht even less. He knew the Call would be telling Braska exactly how displeased he was and, for once, he was glad of it. He waited until Braska and Tromell were out of sight before he turned to Jecht.
"Well, it seems we are stuck with one another. Follow me."
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Braska did not send notice to the Inn for two days. When the letter arrived, hand delivered by Tromell, it notified Auron that they would leave in the morning after a stop at the Farplane. It cordially invited both the guardians to attend.
Auron sighed and folded the note, placing it into a small interior pocket of his robe. He then began to take inventory of the supplies. He had no idea where Jecht was. The man had accompanied Auron to the shop the day before and noticed a guado in a uniform looking over regulation blitzballs. As the warrior haggled the price of a few potions and worked out an exchange for some electromarbles, Jecht had questioned the blitz player. When Auron had finished the transaction, Jecht was gone.
The situation hadn't really concerned Auron all that much at the time. If Jecht truly was a blitz player as he purported, and Auron now had little reason to doubt at least that much of the story, then taking off to "talk shop" with another player seemed a logical thing. Guadosalam was an entirely enclosed city and a rather small one at that. The fact that Jecht was loose among the guado was of little concern to Auron. How much trouble could the man get into?
When Jecht didn't return to the Inn after the hour of the evening meal, Auron began to be concerned. Folk stories said that the Guado had once been a huge and thriving society with vast cities that spanned over the entire Moonflow. Now - after centuries of devastation, disaster, and inbreeding - the once-proud race was rumored to be dying out. Lord Jyscal's conversion and taking a human wife had sent all kinds of tales through the rumor mills of Bevelle. Auron had, thanks to his close friendship with Kinoc, been privy to many. If the stories were to be believed, there had been unrest after Jyscal's wife gave birth to the half-breed boy, Seymour. There were factions among them that opposed Jyscal and resented the intrusion of humans in their city. Auron started to wonder if he shouldn't go looking for the man from Zanarkand.
After some thought, Auron decided against looking for Jecht. The hour had grown late and the warrior was convinced the man would return by morning. Aside from the shop, the Inn, and a small bar and eatery where locals gathered; there were few places in Guadosalam that would welcome a foreigner. Should Jecht cause trouble, he would be taken to Maester Jyscal's manor and Braska could deal with him.
By the afternoon meal the next day there was still no sign of Jecht. Though it irritated Auron to no end, he decided to go looking.
It didn't take long to find the man. In fact, Auron found Jecht on his first stop. Sitting in the bar, the man was talking in a boisterous and animated fashion with several guado. Every one of the young men were in blitzball uniforms.
Advancing across the room, Auron also noticed a rather copious number of bottles littering the small table. It was quickly apparent that Jecht was drunk, as were his companions.
A harried and frazzled waitress hurried to Auron's side, bowing. "Sir, may I help you, Sir?"
"How long has that man been here?" Auron pointed toward Jecht.
The guado woman curtsied and looked uncomfortable. "Sir Jecht, Lord Braska's Guardian, has been here…a long time, Sir."
Auron know how to read between the lines. The poor guado woman had, under rules of hospitality, been unable to request that "Sir Jecht" and his companions leave. To do so would have been rude and might have slighted a man of high station – a Guardian. Guardians and Summoners were held in awe, even among the guado, and to do something to displease them was considered the height of indecency; particularly when the Guardian was attending a Journeying Summoner.
"I am the Lord Braska's other Guardian, Sir Auron." He turned to the guado woman and took several silver gil from his pouch. Auron was loathe to part with them – the gil pouch was already getting frightfully light thanks to Jecht losing his ball – but common decency required that the barkeep be compensated for Jecht's behavior. He pressed the gil into the woman's hand. "Sir Jecht will be leaving now. Our Summoner will be moving on to Djose Temple with the dawn."
"Yevon bless you and your Summoner on the Journey, Sir Auron." The relief on the woman's face was plain. She bowed and performed the sign of prayer before scurrying away.
Jecht had been quite loud in his protests when Auron insisted he return to the inn. One by one, the small group that surrounded him drifted away and out of the bar. Out of patience, Auron jerked the man from Zanarkand out of his chair and helped the staggering oaf out of the establishment. The warrior was unable to pry a half-full bottle of local ale out of Jecht's grasp.
The argument that ensued when they returned to the room wasn't pretty. Jecht became so incensed at one point that he threw the bottle of ale at Auron. The man's aim was off thanks to his inebriation and Auron easily dodged the throw. The green glass shattered in large fragments against the wall of their room; the ale creating a large stain and dripping down onto the hand woven carpet. At that point, Auron had endured enough. Knowing that Braska would be highly displeased if he were to hit Jecht, he did the next best thing. Using a standard third hand control, Auron forced Jecht to ground and then dumped a sleeping potion on him. Once he was sure the drunkard was asleep, he left to get something to clean up the mess.
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"Where is Jecht?"
Auron stood outside the Inn, back straight and a frown on his face. "He will only be a few minutes. I apologize for the delay, my Lord."
"Is something wrong?" Braska's face held look of concern.
"No. He simply…" Auron hesitated and attempted to find a tactful way to explain. An honor guard of guado attendants had accompanied Braska to the Inn and to discuss Jecht's escapade in mixed company was unseemly. "He simply had a headache this morning and found the hour early."
Braska tilted his head slightly to the right and his eyebrows arched upward. The obvious external queues only compounded the feelings that the Call sent him. Auron was disgusted and irritated. It didn't take many guesses for the Summoner to determine the cause. "Oh. I see."
Turning, Braska bowed and addressed the four guado that accompanied him. "I thank you, and your Lord, for the gracious hospitality you have displayed. Please convey again my appreciation to Maester Jyscal."
The retinue performed the sign of prayer and departed in silence, leaving Braska and Auron alone. Once the group was far enough away, Braska attempted to elicit more information. "What happened?"
Auron frowned. His tone was disdainful. "He found some members of the local blitz team and indulged himself."
Braska sighed. "Auron, I understand your concerns. I, too, am worried about Jecht's behavior. However, I ask that you try to place yourself in his position. No doubt, this is terribly difficult for him. I cannot imagine what it would be like to be ripped away from my family and placed in a foreign land. He does not know our customs and we do not know his. Allowances must be made."
The glower Braska's words elicited made it clear that Auron didn't feel much empathy. He had even less understanding for his Summoner's belief in Jecht's tall tales. "Why do you continue to believe his ridiculous story?"
"Auron." Braska's tone was stern. "We discussed this back at Macalania. I have my reasons. If you do not trust him then I ask that you trust me and my judgment."
The Warrior crossed his arms belligerently over his chest.
Realizing that the discussion was getting them nowhere, Braska decided to change the subject. "Will you be accompanying me to the Farplane?"
Auron shifted uncomfortably and cast his gaze downward to stare at the ground. "I will wait for you outside."
Braska slumped slightly in disappointment. "Auron, will you not reconsider? I know that you have concerns about…"
"Braska. I said, no." The words were clipped and harsh.
"I did not mean to push." The Summoner was obviously contrite.
Auron sighed deeply and dropped his arms. The Call conveyed a feeling of regret. "I know you mean well. I simply cannot risk it. The memories are difficult enough to live with. Sometimes, the longing becomes so great…" Auron's voice trailed off as his thoughts overwhelmed him.
Nodding, Braska looked at his friend in sympathy. Auron had never discussed the training fight with him, but rumors in the temple and some cryptic comments from old Wellak had told the Summoner enough. He had treated enough men and women over the years – casting full life to rejoin their souls to shattered bodies or administering phoenix down potions to those on the battlefield – to know that the spirit longed for the Farplane ever after. Given the loved ones Auron had lost, and his own longings, Braska certainly could understand the young man's reticence. He stepped forward and put a comforting hand to the monk's shoulder. "You have no need to explain yourself to me, Auron. I am sorry."
Auron bowed his head; the Call conveying a strange mix of relief and sadness. "No, Braska, I should be the one to apologize. I broke a trust and now I continue to question your decisions. I should show more faith."
Braska was about to reply when Jecht exited the inn; ball under one arm, sword strapped to his back, and a travel pack slung from his shoulder. Braska noted the bloodshot eyes and haggard look. The man's hair was damp but the smell of guado ale still clung to Jecht's skin and clothing. Braska felt Auron stiffen and the Call sent him a feeling that could almost be described as loathing. Jecht responded by shooting Auron a glare that held unmistakable malice. Clearly, the time alone that Braska had hoped might foster kinship had done nothing of the sort.
"Jecht, Auron tells me you were feeling a bit under the weather this morning." Braska shoved the feelings the Call was feeding him out of his mind and smiled pleasantly. "Is there anything I may do to help?"
The blitzer shook his head in the negative. "I'm ok."
"Well, in that case I shant dally. I would like to make the Moonflow crossing before nightfall."
Braska turned and began to lead the way up a spiraling ramp. Auron gestured and waited for Jecht to follow before taking up the rear. Entry doors to private residences and shops lined the walkway. Jecht frowned as he passed the door of the bar. "Will you be accompanying me into the Farplane, Jecht?" Braska asked over his shoulder.
Jecht's eyebrows knitted together in a near scowl. "I dunno."
"Well, Auron will be remaining behind," Braska said in a cheery voice. "I am sure he would be glad to have you keep him company."
That was all Jecht needed to hear. He wasn't about to spend any more time alone with Auron. "Come ta think of it, I suppose I aughta check it out. Might make somethin' cool to tell the wife and kid. Can I take a sphere?"
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Well, I'm back at it. Though I continue to have little time to write I plod away at this tale. I am determined to get it done. This month will see me open my photography studio in a real office instead of my house. Sadly, that means most of the month of July will be spent setting up the darkroom, painting, and organizing the office spaces. Oh how fun. NOT. However, I promise to spend at least an hour three days a week on this story. My hope is to get another chapter out before the end of July and then to get back on track.
Now it's back to packing up! *waves*