Farplane
It felt like magic, the way is very essence floated in the thick air, his figure comprised of what appeared to be small, green fireflies. He gazed down through eyes that weren't there at his glowing hand, and he found he could actually make a fist. As he watched his digits move, the also saw a more mundane colour showing through. The tan hue was fast overtaking the green, until once again he found he had a skin-toned visage, however transparent.
"This is the farplane." He wondered aloud, gazing around him, at the very essence of the other world, it appeared to him as a starry night, the moon full and he was staring out over an open field from a rock-hanging on a cliff's face. Then, the image changed, and he found himself back in Zanarkand.
He stared above him, a large hollographic video billboard hanging from a tall building's side. Upon it was the symbol for the Zanarkand Abes with the city's most famed players, father and son, Jecht and Tidus.
He never knew that the 'sent' could cry until now.
Of course he had acted strong when he had gone, when his charge's beloved summoner friend had intended to send a corrupted 1/2 Guado, he was naturally being sent as well, and he couldn't stop it. He remembered punching his Ronso friend lightly on the chest as he had moved to stand before the girl, Yuna. He had smiled, though it had been hidden by the collar of his shirt, and he remembered gazing at the one he had grown closest to, to see his expression of sadness deep within his eyes, he knew Tidus had wanted to cry, to cry for his mentour, to cry for his father.
"It's alright." He had said as he looked away from the blonde boy to the brunette summoner over his dark sunglasses, though one eye was permanently closed, and very tightly at that.
He remembered thinking, all the while, about how much he had wanted to stay, how much he wanted to be young again, to be with his friends, to be alive. But that could not happen, so he had acted strong.
Auron had always acted strong.
Acted.
The scenary shifted once more, and he gazed out at Besaid, huts lining the main road, he could almost see Tidus and Wakka chatting merrily about Blitzball while Lulu and Yuna spoke quietly about more pressing matters, Kimahri standing ever-present at Yuna's side.
His tears streaked his face now.
He wanted to be home, to be back in Spira, to laugh- though he didn't often- with his mismatched companions, and to hike the trails and see the sites that the world had to offer. He missed the world he had grown to love, in both life and in his 'afterlife' if it could be called that. He reached out a hand to see if he could feel the warmth of the sunlight, but he found he could not. He was standing in an illusion.
"A good man sees what he desires to see, here." Came a disembodied voice, and Auron did not turn to regard it. He knew he would see nothing, so merely shook his head and looked down at his booted feet.
"Do you not wish to see it?"
Once again, he shook his head.
However, now when he looked up the sites were gone, and he found himself looking frantically for them, desiring them to come back. He wanted to see Spira again, he wanted to feel life again, to feel warmth and love, and even pain.
"A good man, but a fool."
Auron could not disagree, as he continued to gaze into the blank reaches of the farplane. This would be his eternity, and he did not feel like starting it off blindly. He let out a low sigh as he turned away from one angle of endless shadows to face another, then another and another.
Ah, the farplane... Eternity. Where even good men receive no great reward.
It felt like magic, the way is very essence floated in the thick air, his figure comprised of what appeared to be small, green fireflies. He gazed down through eyes that weren't there at his glowing hand, and he found he could actually make a fist. As he watched his digits move, the also saw a more mundane colour showing through. The tan hue was fast overtaking the green, until once again he found he had a skin-toned visage, however transparent.
"This is the farplane." He wondered aloud, gazing around him, at the very essence of the other world, it appeared to him as a starry night, the moon full and he was staring out over an open field from a rock-hanging on a cliff's face. Then, the image changed, and he found himself back in Zanarkand.
He stared above him, a large hollographic video billboard hanging from a tall building's side. Upon it was the symbol for the Zanarkand Abes with the city's most famed players, father and son, Jecht and Tidus.
He never knew that the 'sent' could cry until now.
Of course he had acted strong when he had gone, when his charge's beloved summoner friend had intended to send a corrupted 1/2 Guado, he was naturally being sent as well, and he couldn't stop it. He remembered punching his Ronso friend lightly on the chest as he had moved to stand before the girl, Yuna. He had smiled, though it had been hidden by the collar of his shirt, and he remembered gazing at the one he had grown closest to, to see his expression of sadness deep within his eyes, he knew Tidus had wanted to cry, to cry for his mentour, to cry for his father.
"It's alright." He had said as he looked away from the blonde boy to the brunette summoner over his dark sunglasses, though one eye was permanently closed, and very tightly at that.
He remembered thinking, all the while, about how much he had wanted to stay, how much he wanted to be young again, to be with his friends, to be alive. But that could not happen, so he had acted strong.
Auron had always acted strong.
Acted.
The scenary shifted once more, and he gazed out at Besaid, huts lining the main road, he could almost see Tidus and Wakka chatting merrily about Blitzball while Lulu and Yuna spoke quietly about more pressing matters, Kimahri standing ever-present at Yuna's side.
His tears streaked his face now.
He wanted to be home, to be back in Spira, to laugh- though he didn't often- with his mismatched companions, and to hike the trails and see the sites that the world had to offer. He missed the world he had grown to love, in both life and in his 'afterlife' if it could be called that. He reached out a hand to see if he could feel the warmth of the sunlight, but he found he could not. He was standing in an illusion.
"A good man sees what he desires to see, here." Came a disembodied voice, and Auron did not turn to regard it. He knew he would see nothing, so merely shook his head and looked down at his booted feet.
"Do you not wish to see it?"
Once again, he shook his head.
However, now when he looked up the sites were gone, and he found himself looking frantically for them, desiring them to come back. He wanted to see Spira again, he wanted to feel life again, to feel warmth and love, and even pain.
"A good man, but a fool."
Auron could not disagree, as he continued to gaze into the blank reaches of the farplane. This would be his eternity, and he did not feel like starting it off blindly. He let out a low sigh as he turned away from one angle of endless shadows to face another, then another and another.
Ah, the farplane... Eternity. Where even good men receive no great reward.