Standard disclaimers apply.
********************************
The Little Guardian lifted lightly from the ground, ascending into the clouds smoothly. Rikku, seated stonily in the single seat, didn't notice much of anything on the brief trip to Mt. Gagazet. She was alone, lost in the tangled web of thoughts, fears, and dreams.
The trip passed in a blur, leaving barely any time to worry about Shyster. Touching down in the middle of Zanarkand's ruins, she glanced around in an appraising fashion. It was nothing more then a ghost town. Ruined buildings crumbling into further disrepair, scraggly plants struggling for life in the darkened city.
If there really was any such place, Zanarkand was the city of the dead. Spirits roamed as free as fiends in the destroyed streets. Memories took shape with the help of pyreflies, calling up images of people who had long been dead. Killed in a meaningless struggle to destroy Sin. Or perhaps they had been killed by fiends, never getting a chance to sacrifice themselves for the continued false hope of Spira.
Rikku suppressed her thoughts on the city quickly. It was at the top of her list of places she never wished to visit. It had been where everything had happened...... where she had witnessed Auron's death. And somewhere in the crumbling city was a vampire that embodied the very meaning of fear in her soul.
She trembled slightly when she got out of the Little Guardian. The air felt heavier than it had with her friends. It felt oppressive and held a scent that she now recognized as death. A lot of people had died in Zanarkand. So many that their lingering presence tinged the air with death. It all felt rather ominous.
She started walking, her boots scuffing against the dirty stone path, knocking aside the stray rock. Her fingers nervously tapped against the pressure points on her claws, almost willing them to emerge. She would be ready when the time for combat came.
She was listening so hard for a subtle sound indicating a vampire that she almost missed the slight crunch of gravel behind her. Her heart caught in her throat and she spun sharply, claws snapping into place. They slashed through thin air and pyre lit darkness.
"Heh, heh," she managed to laugh slightly. She rotated her shoulders, willing them to loosen up without success. She was too tense. She had to let go of her fear or it would consume her as surely as Shyster meant to consume her blood.
She started towards the ruins of the Blitzball Stadium. Ironically, the heart of Zanarkand from 1,000 years ago was still the same today. Only the Fayth had resided there along with Lady Yunalesca. It was a place of many hopeful good-byes. Or rather, it had been. Currently she suspected it was the lair of her enemy.
Slowly, she drew closer, watching the pyreflies dance around the dome in an endless stream of color. For several long moment - what felt like eternity - she stood, staring up towards the slowly darkening sky.
Her timing, as usual, was bad. She had managed to arrive at Shyster's lair at dusk. He was probably waking now, watching her from some hidden viewpoint. He had an advantage in the dark.
She closed her green eyes, allowing a tremor to course through her body. She rotated her neck slowly, eyes still closed. She bent down, scraping her knuckles across the broken stone she was standing on.
Then she straightened. "All right, Shyster, here I come," she said, her voice firm and without any sign of emotion. She allowed a smile to cross her face, knowing that it wasn't a particularly nice smile. A look that was completely unlike anything she had ever shown before.
She felt oddly calm now that she was at the doors. Her heart beat normally, if not slightly slower then usual. Her muscles felt loose and silken. She felt fast and strong. Adrenaline seeped out of her body along with tension. She felt cold as ice and knew that she was in top form. Nothing could break her out of the shell she had created for herself. Her walls of ice were firmly encased around her old self.
With an oddly emotionless expression on her face, she walked into the Blitzball Stadium.
*****************************
Fiery red eyes followed her progress into the building with a regretful look. Vincent didn't know why, but he felt as if he had to stop her somehow. Or at least make sure that she was all right during her fight with the vampire. She was unstable, sealing herself away and letting her body trickle through the motions of living.
She had made death her life. Living wasn't something that she thought of anymore. Her thoughts resided in those who killed and she took it upon herself to slay them. It was a noble, but empty existence.
Vincent didn't like it.
But he couldn't understand why. She had every right to do what she wished with her life. It wasn't any concern of his. She was certainly old enough to make up her own mind. She was talented and beautiful; a young lady with a gradually freezing attitude and an icy expression.
She wasn't uncertain. She knew what she was doing and felt confident about it even if she was frightened. And she was scared. But then wasn't fear part of fighting stronger people? Hadn't he felt a brief twinge of fear when confronting Sephiroth? Or had he already sealed himself away from those feelings?
He found himself moving foreword soundlessly, following her deep into the towering ruin.
He felt the oppressive nature of the building. Darkness and despair were seeped into every crumbling wall and broken floor. Floating lights - pyreflies - flirted everywhere, bringing images of those long dead to the surface. Playing out memories of the last moments of far too many peoples lives.
It was an unkind place.
Then images of a group of people strolled through him. He blinked and found himself starring at a young blond girl with a hesitant smile on her face, and a cheerful bounce to her step.
**************************************
She brushed past a spiderweb, and stood before the Cloister of trials. Shyster was probably in the room beyond the Chamber of the Fayth. In Yunalesca's chambers, the place where they had thrown off their false hope. For a moment, everything felt so close to that time.
The uncertainty going in. The fear for Yuna's fate that had coursed through her. She still hadn't thought of anything and they were all out of time. She had seen a similar despair playing through Tidus's ocean blue eyes, but a determination. He hadn't given up yet. He hadn't given up throughout Yuna's Pilgrimage.
She stepped on the initial platform, watching as a diagram appeared on the screen directly in front of her. Obviously the trials had reset themselves. She made her way through them rapidly, having already memorized the pattern.
Sometimes she could remember things so clearly. All the trials she had been through..... the final battle with Sin and Yu Yevon...... battling fiends in the Thunder Plains..... all of that seemed to come back with life like images in her sleep.
It was the rest that she couldn't recall. It was a blitz games that Tidus had played along their way to Zanarkand...... the chocobo races..... catching cauctors in the dessert..... the stuff that really mattered. She couldn't remember the people she knew clearly anymore. Just the monsters and the battles. Just the fights and loneliness now that she fought alone.
But did it really matter?
She completed the trial and stepped onto the platform heading towards the Chamber of the Fayth. Shyster was waiting. He had to know that she was coming. He was counting on it.
The room was the same as before. An empty statue rested beneath a heavy glass plate. She didn't hesitate anymore. Her memories were fuzzy and she didn't have time to review them. She strolled to the door leading to Yunalesca's chambers, refusing to hurry to her death. It would come soon enough on it's own.
Then, with a green flash of light, she was through the door.
********************************************
Author's notes; Actually, I usually don't know what to say after I finish a chapter.
There isn't really much of anything to say except; thank-you! Everyone who reviewed..... and more then that..... everyone who read this story and loved it..... I really appreciate your support. Please keep reading.
Thanks for reading,
Kissa-chan
********************************
The Little Guardian lifted lightly from the ground, ascending into the clouds smoothly. Rikku, seated stonily in the single seat, didn't notice much of anything on the brief trip to Mt. Gagazet. She was alone, lost in the tangled web of thoughts, fears, and dreams.
The trip passed in a blur, leaving barely any time to worry about Shyster. Touching down in the middle of Zanarkand's ruins, she glanced around in an appraising fashion. It was nothing more then a ghost town. Ruined buildings crumbling into further disrepair, scraggly plants struggling for life in the darkened city.
If there really was any such place, Zanarkand was the city of the dead. Spirits roamed as free as fiends in the destroyed streets. Memories took shape with the help of pyreflies, calling up images of people who had long been dead. Killed in a meaningless struggle to destroy Sin. Or perhaps they had been killed by fiends, never getting a chance to sacrifice themselves for the continued false hope of Spira.
Rikku suppressed her thoughts on the city quickly. It was at the top of her list of places she never wished to visit. It had been where everything had happened...... where she had witnessed Auron's death. And somewhere in the crumbling city was a vampire that embodied the very meaning of fear in her soul.
She trembled slightly when she got out of the Little Guardian. The air felt heavier than it had with her friends. It felt oppressive and held a scent that she now recognized as death. A lot of people had died in Zanarkand. So many that their lingering presence tinged the air with death. It all felt rather ominous.
She started walking, her boots scuffing against the dirty stone path, knocking aside the stray rock. Her fingers nervously tapped against the pressure points on her claws, almost willing them to emerge. She would be ready when the time for combat came.
She was listening so hard for a subtle sound indicating a vampire that she almost missed the slight crunch of gravel behind her. Her heart caught in her throat and she spun sharply, claws snapping into place. They slashed through thin air and pyre lit darkness.
"Heh, heh," she managed to laugh slightly. She rotated her shoulders, willing them to loosen up without success. She was too tense. She had to let go of her fear or it would consume her as surely as Shyster meant to consume her blood.
She started towards the ruins of the Blitzball Stadium. Ironically, the heart of Zanarkand from 1,000 years ago was still the same today. Only the Fayth had resided there along with Lady Yunalesca. It was a place of many hopeful good-byes. Or rather, it had been. Currently she suspected it was the lair of her enemy.
Slowly, she drew closer, watching the pyreflies dance around the dome in an endless stream of color. For several long moment - what felt like eternity - she stood, staring up towards the slowly darkening sky.
Her timing, as usual, was bad. She had managed to arrive at Shyster's lair at dusk. He was probably waking now, watching her from some hidden viewpoint. He had an advantage in the dark.
She closed her green eyes, allowing a tremor to course through her body. She rotated her neck slowly, eyes still closed. She bent down, scraping her knuckles across the broken stone she was standing on.
Then she straightened. "All right, Shyster, here I come," she said, her voice firm and without any sign of emotion. She allowed a smile to cross her face, knowing that it wasn't a particularly nice smile. A look that was completely unlike anything she had ever shown before.
She felt oddly calm now that she was at the doors. Her heart beat normally, if not slightly slower then usual. Her muscles felt loose and silken. She felt fast and strong. Adrenaline seeped out of her body along with tension. She felt cold as ice and knew that she was in top form. Nothing could break her out of the shell she had created for herself. Her walls of ice were firmly encased around her old self.
With an oddly emotionless expression on her face, she walked into the Blitzball Stadium.
*****************************
Fiery red eyes followed her progress into the building with a regretful look. Vincent didn't know why, but he felt as if he had to stop her somehow. Or at least make sure that she was all right during her fight with the vampire. She was unstable, sealing herself away and letting her body trickle through the motions of living.
She had made death her life. Living wasn't something that she thought of anymore. Her thoughts resided in those who killed and she took it upon herself to slay them. It was a noble, but empty existence.
Vincent didn't like it.
But he couldn't understand why. She had every right to do what she wished with her life. It wasn't any concern of his. She was certainly old enough to make up her own mind. She was talented and beautiful; a young lady with a gradually freezing attitude and an icy expression.
She wasn't uncertain. She knew what she was doing and felt confident about it even if she was frightened. And she was scared. But then wasn't fear part of fighting stronger people? Hadn't he felt a brief twinge of fear when confronting Sephiroth? Or had he already sealed himself away from those feelings?
He found himself moving foreword soundlessly, following her deep into the towering ruin.
He felt the oppressive nature of the building. Darkness and despair were seeped into every crumbling wall and broken floor. Floating lights - pyreflies - flirted everywhere, bringing images of those long dead to the surface. Playing out memories of the last moments of far too many peoples lives.
It was an unkind place.
Then images of a group of people strolled through him. He blinked and found himself starring at a young blond girl with a hesitant smile on her face, and a cheerful bounce to her step.
**************************************
She brushed past a spiderweb, and stood before the Cloister of trials. Shyster was probably in the room beyond the Chamber of the Fayth. In Yunalesca's chambers, the place where they had thrown off their false hope. For a moment, everything felt so close to that time.
The uncertainty going in. The fear for Yuna's fate that had coursed through her. She still hadn't thought of anything and they were all out of time. She had seen a similar despair playing through Tidus's ocean blue eyes, but a determination. He hadn't given up yet. He hadn't given up throughout Yuna's Pilgrimage.
She stepped on the initial platform, watching as a diagram appeared on the screen directly in front of her. Obviously the trials had reset themselves. She made her way through them rapidly, having already memorized the pattern.
Sometimes she could remember things so clearly. All the trials she had been through..... the final battle with Sin and Yu Yevon...... battling fiends in the Thunder Plains..... all of that seemed to come back with life like images in her sleep.
It was the rest that she couldn't recall. It was a blitz games that Tidus had played along their way to Zanarkand...... the chocobo races..... catching cauctors in the dessert..... the stuff that really mattered. She couldn't remember the people she knew clearly anymore. Just the monsters and the battles. Just the fights and loneliness now that she fought alone.
But did it really matter?
She completed the trial and stepped onto the platform heading towards the Chamber of the Fayth. Shyster was waiting. He had to know that she was coming. He was counting on it.
The room was the same as before. An empty statue rested beneath a heavy glass plate. She didn't hesitate anymore. Her memories were fuzzy and she didn't have time to review them. She strolled to the door leading to Yunalesca's chambers, refusing to hurry to her death. It would come soon enough on it's own.
Then, with a green flash of light, she was through the door.
********************************************
Author's notes; Actually, I usually don't know what to say after I finish a chapter.
There isn't really much of anything to say except; thank-you! Everyone who reviewed..... and more then that..... everyone who read this story and loved it..... I really appreciate your support. Please keep reading.
Thanks for reading,
Kissa-chan