Lulu slid silently along the forest path, her violet eyes fixed straight ahead. Her black skirts flowed about her like a moving ocean, almost too slow to keep up with the lady's determined pace.
The trees ended abruptly and she found herself treading on the worn road that circled the cliff and passed beneath the waterfalls.
It was not very light yet; dawn was still a few minutes away. The great sky was being painted over and over again with various pastel shades of reds and oranges, until the horizon turned such a brilliant color that it appeared to be on fire. The black-haired, pale-skinned woman watched for several minutes. She was only able to appreciate the landscape on a certain level, for she was much too busy thinking of what was to occur that day.
"What do we do now?"
Yuna appeared, the flaming sunrise set almost directly behind her. As she approached, Lulu observed the unkempt quality of her brown hair, the circles under her anxious eyes, the downward slope of her unpainted lips.
"You never get up this early." It was all Lulu could think of to say.
"I couldn't sleep." The younger woman shrugged before turning to face the rising sun. "Lulu, I was finally able to let Sir Auron go and I found out he's alive… Not only that, but he's going to come here—today!"
"I was shocked as well," the black mage admitted, blinking and turning away from the intensity of the dawn. Some strands of loose black hair fell across the sides of her face, and she let them hang there to shield her eyes.
"I have such…mixed feelings…"
"So do I."
Yuna bent over, letting out a long and frustrated sigh toward the earth. "Oh, how did this happen? Like you said, Auron's supposed to be dead." She straightened immediately, a worrisome thought apparently entering her mind. "Could that mean he's an unsent?"
"I'm not sure. He looked…younger than before."
"The unsent can change their appearance, though—like Lady Yunalesca and Maester Seymour…" The former summoner shuddered. "What if they come back too?"
"I don't know, Yuna. I don't have any answers for you now."
Yuna jumped, and Lulu guessed she had sounded more irritated than intended. The black-haired woman reached out her hand and touched her companion's shoulder. "Forgive me. I couldn't sleep either."
Yuna nodded.
"You will have to try to send him."
"I know…" Yuna had her face turned away, but her sadness was betrayed by the choking in her voice, which she was able to dismiss when she spoke once more. "I do have Nirvana stored away. I suppose I can take it out one more time, if it becomes necessary."
Lulu touched her friend's shoulder again, having to communicate how proud she was without the use of words.
Yuna faced her once more. "What happens if…if he really is alive again? Could anybody come back to life then? Could Maester Seymour, Lady Yunalesca, Yu Yevon…?"
"I…" Lulu sighed, shaking her head slowly. "I don't know."
~
Gippal gazed down at Rikku's sleeping form, observing the rising and falling of the comforter that he had carefully wrapped around her. She had been very shaken after the call from Yuna, and he had had to convince her to drink tea mixed with a sleeping potion for her to get any rest at all. The woman had only relented after procuring no less than a dozen promises from him.
He had vowed, risking the safety of his spiked blond hair, his position as head of the Machine Faction, and even his own life. He would wake her up with plenty of time to get ready, he would do a maintenance check on the Desert Rose, he would dig out something decent to wear from his closet or there was no way he would step onto Besaid while she was there…
When she had finally had the tea and dozed off, Gippal carried Rikku to his room and laid her out across the bed. He fluffed his pillow before placing it under her head, shook the wrinkles from the sheets before pulling them over her body. He had done something bad, too: before clicking off the light and leaving her to rest in peace, Gippal had taken Rikku's head in his hands and kissed her for a long time. He had not dared to do anything more than press his lips against hers, but he longed for more—secretly, to have her wake and laugh and pull him down for a more intense sort of kiss, and maybe even something more. This wasn't going to happen, and of course it didn't, but he had his fantasies.
Now it was nine o'clock, the promised hour of awakening. He had performed the maintenance check, hesitating for a moment before completing it properly. He honestly wanted to stick a fork into the engine and twist with all his might, destroying the mechanism so that they couldn't travel anywhere. Rikku would have a few minutes to look at Gippal and realize that this guy—who the Al-Bhed was sure was supposed to be dead—was not worth chasing all over the planet, that she had a swell guy right there.
Guilt, however, began to trickle into his thoughts, and Gippal found himself unable to carry out this devious plot. He put the fork away and cleaned the engine instead of disabling it. Why? For one thing, he did not want a beating. Really, though, he knew what Rikku was capable of when she was determined enough. A fried engine wouldn't stop her; she would simply go into town and hire the next shuttle out of Bevelle.
"Rise and shine," he announced presently, clicking on the light. Rikku murmured something in her sleep, so he went and ripped the covers off of her.
"Agh! Whaddya think you're doin'?" she complained, curling into a ball.
"Fulfilling my promise," he said dully. "You can go back to sleep if you want. Just don't touch my hair."
Rikku was sitting in a flash, frantically pulling tangled blond hair from her face. "Oh, what time is it?"
"Nine. Just like you said."
"I said nine at the latest," she roared, rising from the bed and tripping into the bathroom in a bizarre tangle of sheets, pajamas, blond hair, and tanned limbs. Gippal was able to laugh at her for a moment.
Then he remembered what it was like to have her fuss over him like that.
Gippal let out a wistful sigh before heading for the pilot's chair.
"Besaid, here we come," he said mournfully over the controls.
~
Auron did not have much to say. Those welcoming him were used to his stoic silence, but they were not aware that this instance was so very different from others. That he moved about wordlessly because he felt there was nothing to say. All the time he had spent with these people nine years ago, he had been in a position of authority, remaining quiet until it seemed his advice was necessary.
Now they were all older, with their own families and developed lives. Of course he was proud to see this, but it was also a very clear indication—in his eyes at least—that he was no longer needed in Spira. That his time was over.
Hadn't he decided this nine years ago when he had allowed Yuna to send him? He had lingered in the world of the living too long—ten years too long—and it had been time for him to enter the Farplane.
Why was he back now? He had some trouble figuring it out. Memories of the years spent in Spira's afterlife were stored in a small but peaceful corner of his thoughts. He hadn't really had a mind then; he had been only a cluster of memories floating aimlessly through the flower fields and about the glistening waterfalls.
Now, though, he was back with a life force much stronger than he remembered from his time passing between Zanarkand and Spira. Almost like those twenty-five years when he had actually lived—
Auron clenched his fingers into a fist, feeling the muscles, bones, and tissues tightening. This flesh gently pulsing with the blood pumped by his heart…
"Sir Auron?"
Yuna's eyes, a sapphire and an emerald, were looking rather concernedly up into his face. She tilted her head and said, "Is something the matter?"
"It is nothing."
They had been walking from the coast, where the shuttle from Mt. Gagazet had landed, through the woods to the village. The clearing had been widened since ten years ago to accommodate perhaps a dozen more small buildings. Still, compared to what Auron had witnesses flying over Luca and Kilika, this sort of expansion was nothing.
They arrived at the entrance to one of the new houses. "Kimahri, Sir Auron, welcome," the summoner said warmly, pulling open the flap to reveal the interior of her home.
Inside, the trio found Lulu, Wakka, and Tidus seated on wooden chairs next to the empty fireplaces. The two men each had a child seated on his knee, Wakka holding a boy and Tidus a girl a few years younger. Back at Gagazet, Auron had spent the night with Kimahri, his wife, and their three rambunctious sons. The human boy and girl seemed a lot tamer, even if she clenched a blitzball between her short fingers.
There was a lot of embracing and handshaking and excited talking for the next few minutes. Yuna seemed as though she might cry when she saw Tidus throw his arms around the older man. Auron, for his part, nodded and tried to smile. He even spoke a little, telling them that they all looked very well.
When things had settled down, after Auron had been urged into the largest chair in the house and had been given a cool, whipped fruit drink spiked with a touch of "flavorin'" (or so Wakka put it), the men and women fell into silence.
Auron knew it was his fault, and he wanted to apologize. The thing was he wasn't quite sure how to define what he was sorry about. Obviously, they were happy to see him—not to say that he wasn't as happy to be reunited with them—and while all that was well and good, there was no one to exclaim why such a miracle had occurred.
"Would you like to rest?" Lulu said suddenly from beside him. "Lunch won't be for a while—"
"Oh, I should start that," Yuna broke in, and promptly left the hut.
"—so there's plenty of time."
"Thank you," Auron said dismissively, and he watched the dark-haired woman nod and glide out the door. The two children bounced up and hurried out after, in a sudden and frenzied game of tag. Kimahri, who had stationed himself beside the door like a sentry, turned and followed them.
The samurai soon found himself staring at the frothy pink surface of his beverage.
Wakka tilted his head back and began to glug down what remained of his own drink. He then breathed appreciatively and wiped his mouth with the back of one hand. "How's things goin'?"
"I can't complain."
Wakka nodded slowly before rubbing the top of his head. He had at least made one improvement over the years; his once outrageous hair was trimmed so it now consisted of orange spikes of only two inches.
"None of us really care how you got back, Auron, only that you did come back."
Auron's eyes fell on Tidus, who had been quiet for a while. He found the blond man leaning forward and smiling earnestly.
"I've learned not to question spontaneous resurrections."
It was supposed to be a joke, but Auron found he could not manage so much as a smile. Resurrection? He had had no body to reanimate. It didn't feel like the old body, anyway; it was as though this one was brand new.
He decided to speak, though. "So the fayth found a way to make your existence here permanent."
"Yep. It sure took some doing, though. I have Yuna to thank for everything."
"Don't forget Rikku," Wakka interrupted. "And Paine."
The second name he did not recognize, but Rikku…? Her name had had something to do with his return. Some sense of obligation experienced by his pyreflies on the Farplane…
"She really seems to miss you."
"Hey, Sir Auron," Wakka said. "I got a question."
"Ask it, then."
"How come you look younger?"
It had completely slipped his mind. Yes, when he had seen a mirror at Kimahri's home, he had been stunned to find himself free of gray hair and any wrinkle whatsoever. It made sense, though. He had been killed by Yunalesca at the age of twenty-five. For ten years afterward he had been unsent, altering his appearance just enough to avoid arousing suspicion.
Auron related this chain of thoughts with as few words as possible. "I died when I was twenty-five."
"Ah."
For the next few minutes, Auron concentrated on finishing his drink. The other two shifted uncomfortably, once in a while breaking into short exchanges of monosyllabic sentences before they lapsed into silence once more. From outside filtered in the sounds of the villagers passing by, the clanging as Lulu and Yuna prepared food over the campfire, the loud laughing of the playing children.
"I think I'll go check on Lenne and Vidina," Tidus announced, rising.
"Me too," Wakka said, jumping up.
"You okay by yourself?"
Auron realized Tidus was talking to him, so he looked up, processed the inquiry, and offered a hollow smile.
"See you in a few." The blond blitzer waved on his way out, Wakka trailing behind with an apologetic expression plastered on his face.
The remaining man could hear their mumblings outside the open window as they passed around the hut. Feeling comfortably alone, he sucked down the remains of his drink and wiped his mouth. He leaned back into the chair, wincing at the pain that sliced across his scarred eye.
He felt the scar, retracting his hand instantly. Why did it feel so fresh? Why was the pain so intense, like when he had first received the wound?
"I'm gonna go check," said a increasingly loud female voice from near the door.
Auron straightened.
"Wait here! Geez!"
"Why—?" The male voice was cut off by an exclamation of pain.
The flap was pulled open, and a young woman entered through it, looking about with bright, curious eyes. Her blond hair was loose, stretching in modest waves to her lower back. She wore a khaki-colored skirt that stretched down to the floor but did not hide her sandaled feet, and on top she had on a tight-fitting green tank top that suited her coloring quite well.
Auron did not know how to react, so he only breathed in deeply as quietly as he could.
"Anybody here, Rikku?" asked the same male voice from before. Auron could make out the speaker, a tall Al-Bhed man with spiked hair and an eye patch. He bent down to poke his head inside the tent, and the look he threw at Auron was of confusion, surprise, and slight disgust.
Rikku remained silent, only staring. After a moment she smiled meekly. Her smile grew larger, and her eyes turned into crescent moons glistening with tears.
She had grown very beautiful, Auron thought.