Disclaimer : I own none of the characters registered by Square, of course; nor do I own, or have created, the world in which all of this transpires. The characters who star in this story and do not appear in the game are creations of my own. Using them will lead to flogging, reaming and being overrun by hordes of frothing lemmings.
"The people and the friends we have lost,
or the dreams that have faded ...
Never forget them."
Like tiny bells those words still chime in my mind and in my dreams. They were the words Yuna uttered yesterday, addressing all of Spira. Rapt, everyone listened to her. We drank in every single one of her syllables, as were they the sweetest of nectar –– we savoured them and let them merge with our joy. She, the daughter High Summoner Braska, had done the impossible : she had purged Spira forever. Sin was no more. Yu Yevon was no more.
For some of us, though, the euphoria lingered not for long. The surge of happiness has faded now, and the bittersweet hues of reality have phased back in. Once more, grief keeps me under thumb.
But when she spoke, I cried, lying in that accursed hospital bed. Two searing rivers of chrome. I tried to expel my grief and my sorrow –– my aching heart –– with my tears. Of course, I could not. The pang of our failure, of my loss, is still too vivid in my mind. Still the shame and the hate exist there, seething under my skin and threatening to percolate through. Yuna and her coterie had become what we had not been able to : Spira's tourniquet. Not only that, but the solution she proffered was definite. Sin would not return.
It is a selfish thought, I know this full and well, but the impeccable success of her pilgrimage only managed to bring into painstakingly sharp focus how complete our failure –– our fall –– had been. Our pilgrimage had failed in every single aspect, form, shape and way. We never even came close to our goal. The journey took everything from us; faith, loyalty, trust. Even love.
What will become of them? Of her? Yet another grim stone erected in the midst of the frigid gusts of Mt. Gagazet, for people to gawk at and admire? Like those before them, will they and their struggle be forgotten? I could not stand such a thing. Remembrance makes us what we are. The past shapes the future, and therefore is it crucial that we know not only the accomplishments, but also their antonyms. Even the brightest of sunrays casts a shadow, and no matter the purity of the light, the darkness will be black.
It is no joyous or jocose tale, this journal of mine, but it is as much a part of the legacy of the summoners as Yuna's conquest and supreme success. Every single brick of stone, every single attempt, matters –– as does every failure. Even our voyage matters. The one which ended in the bitter cold. Which ended with our petals being deflowered.
Author's note : Short, I know. It's just a little something that will, hopefully, wet your interest. Chapter I should follow fairly soon, if everything goes as it should. As with all, or nearly all, authors and writers, I gladly welcome any reviews and constructive criticisms; it's one of the best ways for an author to grow.