A/N: Well, due to internet outage and computer illness in my life this is
what I have so far. Please exuse the lateness of this entry. More will be
forth coming as soon as my Computer and the internet form a more perfect
union. :)
Battles we've Fought By De-gon Gin Chapter 10
Auron remembered. The snow blew against his frozen face. It didn't matter much anymore to Auron, he had lost all feeling hours ago. Slowly, through shear determination, he placed one numb foot in front of the other. His vision was full of only two colors, the white of the snow and the crimson of his blood. The warrior was certain that fiends stalked nearby, following his back trail of bright red splatters. If he had felt more ambitious, he would have contemplated why they had not yet attacked. Before him a dark shape loomed out of the frigid white view. With a grimace that cracked the frozen layer of blood and sweat on his face he forced his sword to his shoulder. Shambling to a stop he waited for the last hurtle to make itself better known. But the shape waited just beyond his sight. It did not move, nor come any closer, only hovered just beyond his reach.
"Come on and finish this." He breathed, it was supposed to be a shout, but all his damaged body would make was a fiercely painful whisper. "I tire of this. End it." The blood soaked chest of the warrior heaved with the emotions that shook him. Guilt, failure, hopelessness and pain tore Auron to the very quick. Gritting his teeth he forced himself forward, towards the shadow in his world of cold white snow.
Yuna watched with growing concern as the legendary guardian was reduced in front of her. She looked up and motioned to Lulu. The dark mage walked over to her and looked down, a knowing look crossing her stern face.
"I'll take the rest up farther, Yuna." She stated and turned to the group. With a twist of her head she looked back at the summoner, "Be gentle with him, whatever he has gone through has scared him as badly as whatever took his eye." She tapped her right eye with a purple painted nail and walked back to the group. Yuna could hear her faintly talking to the others and soon the only sound was the ever-present howling winds of the mountain.
"Sir Auron?" Yuna asked softly, resting in the snow near him. "Please, I need you. Tell me what I need to do to help." She reached across to his shoulder and placed a hand upon the red fabric of his coat. She was shocked to feel the man trembling, his breathing coming in pain-filled gasps. With a quick glance she confirmed that he was not physically injured. "Sir Auron?" she called again.
"Braska." The name was not so much spoken as exhaled, the voice long gone along with the strength to speak. He hobbled to the shadow, realizing it was a rock, no a boulder that was setting in the trail. Across from the stone was a memorial, three rusting weapons marking where a summoner party had fallen long before he and his party had walked to Zanarkand. The last of his energy wasted on making himself move defensively to the boulder on the trail, Auron slumped upon the now conveniently placed stone. His sword, showing nicks and pits from lack of proper care and stained with blood finally left his hand. It slipped into the deep snow beside the rock, taking the wiser course and burying itself before someone else had to. With a shaking breath, Auron wished he had been as strong. Instead, he recalled the reasons he was still among the living, his duty to the children of his comrades. He pushed himself off the rock, only to slip and fall painfully against the unyielding stone. Fresh blood oozed from a re-split lip, not much, and it froze quickly, making a bandage similar to the one across his now useless right eye. Above him, resting against the memorial was another that watched his last moments. Auron closed his eyes against the constant snow, his left hand fumbling in his stiff red coat for the last of his potions. He did not even realize when he had slipped into blackness.
Auron wiped his face, the tears not a welcome addition to his morning. Yuna was near; he could smell the scent she used, even through the cold air of the mountain. With a small breath to control himself, he opened his eye and looked around.
"The party?" he asked, his voice more assured than he felt.
"Up ahead." Yuna replied. "Are you able to keep up?" She asked, concern written on her face.
Auron nodded. "I apologize." He stated, looking into the varicolored eyes of his summoner. "I should not have stopped."
"You have been through a lot, Sir Auron. And to still feel anything at all should be a blessing. Don't you think?" She peered back into the russet colored gaze. Looking for a crack or any emotion other than pain, she was surprised to see determination, a fierce drive to continue.
"One might." He replied. "Some time, when we have a moment around the fire, before we compete your journey, I would like to tell you about your Father's pilgrimage."
"That would be wonderful." A small tear glistened in the blue eye, ready to be blinked free to fall along her cheek. "I do hope he would be proud of me."
Auron sighed, remembering the constant attention Braska would receive due to his unorthodox ways. With a soft chuckle, and a little nod to the now silent voice of his former master, he spoke. "Oh, Yuna, I don't think you have anything to fear. Your father would be so proud of you he would walk the waters of Bevelle bay just to prove it to you." He shifted himself to stand in the shifting snow, his right hand sinking slightly in the ever- present drifts against the stone. With a start he looked down and gasped, his hand was stopped a good foot from the stone. It rested on the pommel of an old sword. "It couldn't be, not after all this time." He mumbled to himself. Yuna looked on with a confused look and stepped up to help the older man up. She watched, as he seemed to try to pull something from the snow bank. In moments Auron had the sword prized from the greedy white snow bank. It was his katana, rusted and more pitted than he remembered, but still intact. He looked at its length, the color of the blade now matching his remaining eye's shade of brown, pits marring the surface. He held the sword out for Yuna to see.
"This was the blade I carried from Zanarkand. This is the blade I used against many enemies there." A single tear trailed down his stubbled cheek. "It's still here."
"It seems that it's as determined as you are to see this through." Yuna stated sagely, sounding an awful lot like her father.
Auron's head whipped around to look at his current summoner. He was greeted with her smile, a genuine smile and not the "Face" she wore for the others.
"Sometimes we can learn, Sir Auron." She placed a cold hand on the gloved hand that held the pommel of the old sword. "Let it rest here as it has for ten years. You're on a new pilgrimage now, one that should end much better than the last. And if it doesn't and Sin continues after we are gone, what better way for you to be remembered that by the Ronso's sacred mountain itself?" She pressed against his arm, lowering the old rusted sword back to the snow covered ground. It slid into the snow, though too dull to be used as a weapon; the blade was still strong enough to part the hard packed powder.
Auron watched with a shocked expression on his face. He allowed the small girl to move his sword arm and helped sink the old blade into the snow at his feet, next to the stone in the trail. He felt his heart beat faster, and all his mixed feelings crystallize into the driving passion of his later life. She was right; it was a different journey they walked. Braska had tried and had succeeded, granting Spira a decade of peace and the most powerful incarnation of Sin the world had ever known. And though he had walked beside the honored high summoner in the past, it was time to turn his tired gaze to the future, to the present task ahead. Yuna would find the way to put Jecht's spirit to rest, and rid Spira of its curse, it's sin. With a sigh he straitened up and placed his left hand on her shoulder. He sufficed with a squeeze of thanks and used his gloved right hand to wipe the remains of his emotions off his face. Turning into the strong wind of the mountain he motioned for his summoner to precede him. Yuna turned her back on the old blade in the snow and marched to where the rest of the group was waiting. Wisely, Lulu had warned them to reign in their collective curiosity and the troop moved across the face of Mount Gagazet. The Ruins of Zanarkand waiting for them on the other side.
At the peak of the sacred mountain, a presence waited, Seymour was not about to be undone. Though the party carried Sin's own luck with them, as well as that Unsent monk, they would be finished before they could pose a threat to his Master. He lifted his pale face to the sky and frowned at the distant form of Sin on the horizon. It was too soon for that lummox to be here yet, he waved his hand and felt the command to wait pass from his slender fingers to the dimwitted beast. Seymour laughed to himself, a sour chuckle and added a compulsion to destroy the Ronso below at the foot of the mountain. The great monster shook as the spirit that was a man fought the overwhelming tide of destructive urges that flowed from the god in it's belly. Auron stumbled, and frowned behind his gray leather collar. Jecht was calling, screaming in his head. Sin was near, very, very near, and it was on a mission of destruction. With a shudder, the warrior-monk looked out across the sky and searched for some sign of the great beast. With a grimace he gave up, not seeing Sin or any sign of him. The party continued up the face of the sacred mountain, Tidus watched at the head of the party for fiends. A surprising amount of them seemed to wait for their party. Ambushes were the stock and trade of the day. Fight after fight wore down the group's health and moral. They took a moment to rest at a large memorial, a single boulder surrounded by smaller stones, as if the ring was protecting the main rock. Tidus looked with fascination at the construct and noticed Yuna kneeling to it. With out asking, Lulu strolled up to the young blitzer and explained.
"Many Summoners and their guardians do not survive the mountain passes here." She stated with a sigh. "And they are not sent on." She wiped a stray lock of hair away from her eyes and then hugged herself in the cold.
"Not sent? Why?" Tidus asked, a concerned look in his blue eyes.
"No one left to send them. When you die out here, you die alone." She looked into the jock's eyes, her gaze alone enforcing the feeling of dread. "And it seems the fiends are lonely, the old summoners want Yuna for company." She gestured to the pass around them.
"That's not gonna happen." Tidus stated with conviction and the strength of belief. Behind him, mostly hidden in his armored collar, Auron nodded and smiled.
Lulu smiled at Tidus and then looked back at her praying charge. Yuna was finished and had stood up during the short lesson. She moved to stand in the center of her guardians and friends. It seemed that she was listening as she had prayed and graced them all with her most genuine smile of gratitude. A feeling of strength and camaraderie bound the party together.
Wakka rubbed the back of his head and patted his ball, "We should get going, ya?" he asked.
Yuna nodded to the large blitzer and motioned for them all to continue. They fell into their typical formation and walked down the pass. Fiends gathered along the trail and harassed the party as they climbed to the peak. Rikku, taking advantage of the large amount of fire-based monsters, stole enough fire gems to outfit the warriors with fire eating armor. An exhausted party found the peak of the mountain occupied.
"Zanarkand is on the other side." Rikku spoke to Tidus with a sad voice.
"I know." He replied, head down, hands to his sides in a posture of tired resignation. "We still haven't thought of anything."
"I know." He looked up into Rikku's face and swallowed. "We will have to go on to Zanarkand. We'll find what we're looking for there. I'm sure there is a way." Tidus' posture moved from defeat to a crossed armed stance of determination. His hand came up and gave his pumping salute of victory. Fire lit his blue eyes.
Rikku placed a coy finger to her lips and smiled. "Ahh." She said as she winked to him. "You sounded like a leader there for a minute."
He grinned back, "Star of the Zanarkand Abes. Didn't anyone tell you?"
Rikku turned and gasped. Behind the young blitzer stood a figure she had prayed was long since a member of the Farplane. A soft chuckle oozed from the man, blue hair still gathered into grotesque tentacles that surrounded his face. Blue eyes pierced the air to stare at the turned face of his enemy, a sneer pulling the strange blue markings on his face askew.
"Son of Jecht." He made the words an insult.
"Seymour!" Tidus shouted, pulling his blade free of its sheath. "Rikku! Go and tell Auron!"
"You can't fight him alone!" Rikku screamed tightening the straps of her claw.
"GO!" he yelled, eyes not leaving the stoically waiting Guado.
Seymour chuckled again and motioned to the young blitzer as the thief dashed to the party behind them. "Now is the time for you to die, Son of Jecht."
"NOT IF I CAN HELP IT!"
A growling voice interjected itself into the traded insults. "Save some for Kimahri!"
Rikku had done as she was asked, the party charged up to stand firm with the young blitzer. The time for battle had arrived, and all were ready for it.
Battles we've Fought By De-gon Gin Chapter 10
Auron remembered. The snow blew against his frozen face. It didn't matter much anymore to Auron, he had lost all feeling hours ago. Slowly, through shear determination, he placed one numb foot in front of the other. His vision was full of only two colors, the white of the snow and the crimson of his blood. The warrior was certain that fiends stalked nearby, following his back trail of bright red splatters. If he had felt more ambitious, he would have contemplated why they had not yet attacked. Before him a dark shape loomed out of the frigid white view. With a grimace that cracked the frozen layer of blood and sweat on his face he forced his sword to his shoulder. Shambling to a stop he waited for the last hurtle to make itself better known. But the shape waited just beyond his sight. It did not move, nor come any closer, only hovered just beyond his reach.
"Come on and finish this." He breathed, it was supposed to be a shout, but all his damaged body would make was a fiercely painful whisper. "I tire of this. End it." The blood soaked chest of the warrior heaved with the emotions that shook him. Guilt, failure, hopelessness and pain tore Auron to the very quick. Gritting his teeth he forced himself forward, towards the shadow in his world of cold white snow.
Yuna watched with growing concern as the legendary guardian was reduced in front of her. She looked up and motioned to Lulu. The dark mage walked over to her and looked down, a knowing look crossing her stern face.
"I'll take the rest up farther, Yuna." She stated and turned to the group. With a twist of her head she looked back at the summoner, "Be gentle with him, whatever he has gone through has scared him as badly as whatever took his eye." She tapped her right eye with a purple painted nail and walked back to the group. Yuna could hear her faintly talking to the others and soon the only sound was the ever-present howling winds of the mountain.
"Sir Auron?" Yuna asked softly, resting in the snow near him. "Please, I need you. Tell me what I need to do to help." She reached across to his shoulder and placed a hand upon the red fabric of his coat. She was shocked to feel the man trembling, his breathing coming in pain-filled gasps. With a quick glance she confirmed that he was not physically injured. "Sir Auron?" she called again.
"Braska." The name was not so much spoken as exhaled, the voice long gone along with the strength to speak. He hobbled to the shadow, realizing it was a rock, no a boulder that was setting in the trail. Across from the stone was a memorial, three rusting weapons marking where a summoner party had fallen long before he and his party had walked to Zanarkand. The last of his energy wasted on making himself move defensively to the boulder on the trail, Auron slumped upon the now conveniently placed stone. His sword, showing nicks and pits from lack of proper care and stained with blood finally left his hand. It slipped into the deep snow beside the rock, taking the wiser course and burying itself before someone else had to. With a shaking breath, Auron wished he had been as strong. Instead, he recalled the reasons he was still among the living, his duty to the children of his comrades. He pushed himself off the rock, only to slip and fall painfully against the unyielding stone. Fresh blood oozed from a re-split lip, not much, and it froze quickly, making a bandage similar to the one across his now useless right eye. Above him, resting against the memorial was another that watched his last moments. Auron closed his eyes against the constant snow, his left hand fumbling in his stiff red coat for the last of his potions. He did not even realize when he had slipped into blackness.
Auron wiped his face, the tears not a welcome addition to his morning. Yuna was near; he could smell the scent she used, even through the cold air of the mountain. With a small breath to control himself, he opened his eye and looked around.
"The party?" he asked, his voice more assured than he felt.
"Up ahead." Yuna replied. "Are you able to keep up?" She asked, concern written on her face.
Auron nodded. "I apologize." He stated, looking into the varicolored eyes of his summoner. "I should not have stopped."
"You have been through a lot, Sir Auron. And to still feel anything at all should be a blessing. Don't you think?" She peered back into the russet colored gaze. Looking for a crack or any emotion other than pain, she was surprised to see determination, a fierce drive to continue.
"One might." He replied. "Some time, when we have a moment around the fire, before we compete your journey, I would like to tell you about your Father's pilgrimage."
"That would be wonderful." A small tear glistened in the blue eye, ready to be blinked free to fall along her cheek. "I do hope he would be proud of me."
Auron sighed, remembering the constant attention Braska would receive due to his unorthodox ways. With a soft chuckle, and a little nod to the now silent voice of his former master, he spoke. "Oh, Yuna, I don't think you have anything to fear. Your father would be so proud of you he would walk the waters of Bevelle bay just to prove it to you." He shifted himself to stand in the shifting snow, his right hand sinking slightly in the ever- present drifts against the stone. With a start he looked down and gasped, his hand was stopped a good foot from the stone. It rested on the pommel of an old sword. "It couldn't be, not after all this time." He mumbled to himself. Yuna looked on with a confused look and stepped up to help the older man up. She watched, as he seemed to try to pull something from the snow bank. In moments Auron had the sword prized from the greedy white snow bank. It was his katana, rusted and more pitted than he remembered, but still intact. He looked at its length, the color of the blade now matching his remaining eye's shade of brown, pits marring the surface. He held the sword out for Yuna to see.
"This was the blade I carried from Zanarkand. This is the blade I used against many enemies there." A single tear trailed down his stubbled cheek. "It's still here."
"It seems that it's as determined as you are to see this through." Yuna stated sagely, sounding an awful lot like her father.
Auron's head whipped around to look at his current summoner. He was greeted with her smile, a genuine smile and not the "Face" she wore for the others.
"Sometimes we can learn, Sir Auron." She placed a cold hand on the gloved hand that held the pommel of the old sword. "Let it rest here as it has for ten years. You're on a new pilgrimage now, one that should end much better than the last. And if it doesn't and Sin continues after we are gone, what better way for you to be remembered that by the Ronso's sacred mountain itself?" She pressed against his arm, lowering the old rusted sword back to the snow covered ground. It slid into the snow, though too dull to be used as a weapon; the blade was still strong enough to part the hard packed powder.
Auron watched with a shocked expression on his face. He allowed the small girl to move his sword arm and helped sink the old blade into the snow at his feet, next to the stone in the trail. He felt his heart beat faster, and all his mixed feelings crystallize into the driving passion of his later life. She was right; it was a different journey they walked. Braska had tried and had succeeded, granting Spira a decade of peace and the most powerful incarnation of Sin the world had ever known. And though he had walked beside the honored high summoner in the past, it was time to turn his tired gaze to the future, to the present task ahead. Yuna would find the way to put Jecht's spirit to rest, and rid Spira of its curse, it's sin. With a sigh he straitened up and placed his left hand on her shoulder. He sufficed with a squeeze of thanks and used his gloved right hand to wipe the remains of his emotions off his face. Turning into the strong wind of the mountain he motioned for his summoner to precede him. Yuna turned her back on the old blade in the snow and marched to where the rest of the group was waiting. Wisely, Lulu had warned them to reign in their collective curiosity and the troop moved across the face of Mount Gagazet. The Ruins of Zanarkand waiting for them on the other side.
At the peak of the sacred mountain, a presence waited, Seymour was not about to be undone. Though the party carried Sin's own luck with them, as well as that Unsent monk, they would be finished before they could pose a threat to his Master. He lifted his pale face to the sky and frowned at the distant form of Sin on the horizon. It was too soon for that lummox to be here yet, he waved his hand and felt the command to wait pass from his slender fingers to the dimwitted beast. Seymour laughed to himself, a sour chuckle and added a compulsion to destroy the Ronso below at the foot of the mountain. The great monster shook as the spirit that was a man fought the overwhelming tide of destructive urges that flowed from the god in it's belly. Auron stumbled, and frowned behind his gray leather collar. Jecht was calling, screaming in his head. Sin was near, very, very near, and it was on a mission of destruction. With a shudder, the warrior-monk looked out across the sky and searched for some sign of the great beast. With a grimace he gave up, not seeing Sin or any sign of him. The party continued up the face of the sacred mountain, Tidus watched at the head of the party for fiends. A surprising amount of them seemed to wait for their party. Ambushes were the stock and trade of the day. Fight after fight wore down the group's health and moral. They took a moment to rest at a large memorial, a single boulder surrounded by smaller stones, as if the ring was protecting the main rock. Tidus looked with fascination at the construct and noticed Yuna kneeling to it. With out asking, Lulu strolled up to the young blitzer and explained.
"Many Summoners and their guardians do not survive the mountain passes here." She stated with a sigh. "And they are not sent on." She wiped a stray lock of hair away from her eyes and then hugged herself in the cold.
"Not sent? Why?" Tidus asked, a concerned look in his blue eyes.
"No one left to send them. When you die out here, you die alone." She looked into the jock's eyes, her gaze alone enforcing the feeling of dread. "And it seems the fiends are lonely, the old summoners want Yuna for company." She gestured to the pass around them.
"That's not gonna happen." Tidus stated with conviction and the strength of belief. Behind him, mostly hidden in his armored collar, Auron nodded and smiled.
Lulu smiled at Tidus and then looked back at her praying charge. Yuna was finished and had stood up during the short lesson. She moved to stand in the center of her guardians and friends. It seemed that she was listening as she had prayed and graced them all with her most genuine smile of gratitude. A feeling of strength and camaraderie bound the party together.
Wakka rubbed the back of his head and patted his ball, "We should get going, ya?" he asked.
Yuna nodded to the large blitzer and motioned for them all to continue. They fell into their typical formation and walked down the pass. Fiends gathered along the trail and harassed the party as they climbed to the peak. Rikku, taking advantage of the large amount of fire-based monsters, stole enough fire gems to outfit the warriors with fire eating armor. An exhausted party found the peak of the mountain occupied.
"Zanarkand is on the other side." Rikku spoke to Tidus with a sad voice.
"I know." He replied, head down, hands to his sides in a posture of tired resignation. "We still haven't thought of anything."
"I know." He looked up into Rikku's face and swallowed. "We will have to go on to Zanarkand. We'll find what we're looking for there. I'm sure there is a way." Tidus' posture moved from defeat to a crossed armed stance of determination. His hand came up and gave his pumping salute of victory. Fire lit his blue eyes.
Rikku placed a coy finger to her lips and smiled. "Ahh." She said as she winked to him. "You sounded like a leader there for a minute."
He grinned back, "Star of the Zanarkand Abes. Didn't anyone tell you?"
Rikku turned and gasped. Behind the young blitzer stood a figure she had prayed was long since a member of the Farplane. A soft chuckle oozed from the man, blue hair still gathered into grotesque tentacles that surrounded his face. Blue eyes pierced the air to stare at the turned face of his enemy, a sneer pulling the strange blue markings on his face askew.
"Son of Jecht." He made the words an insult.
"Seymour!" Tidus shouted, pulling his blade free of its sheath. "Rikku! Go and tell Auron!"
"You can't fight him alone!" Rikku screamed tightening the straps of her claw.
"GO!" he yelled, eyes not leaving the stoically waiting Guado.
Seymour chuckled again and motioned to the young blitzer as the thief dashed to the party behind them. "Now is the time for you to die, Son of Jecht."
"NOT IF I CAN HELP IT!"
A growling voice interjected itself into the traded insults. "Save some for Kimahri!"
Rikku had done as she was asked, the party charged up to stand firm with the young blitzer. The time for battle had arrived, and all were ready for it.