Notes: Okay, getting to the end now. Hope things make sense.

Disclaimer: All still stand.

Wakka hadn't spoken since he'd given the order to move towards Zanarkand. He'd been very firm in what he said. They made no other stops. Only one exception was made, to rest when they reached Macalania. The team, as well as the Ronso took comfort in the woods to sleep up as much as they could.

But a voice had stirred Wakka from his slumber.

It's inevitable. It whispered close to his ear. What will happen.

He'd sat upright and glanced frantically around. He'd risen from the spot he'd chosen to sleep and moved about the woods in search of the voice's origin.

The sleeper will be awakened.

"Where are you?" Wakka shouted as it led him through the wood.

And secrets will be revealed.

His pace quickened and he soon found himself running along the trail. Past the trees and the glimmering lights until he was pulled out into the snow. The cold assaulted him and he squinted against the harsh wind.

The balance as you know it, is being threatened.

A pyrefly appeared before him and led him forward towards the lake. His eyes peered forward, down into the depths towards the sunken temple that had once been the resting place for one of the mightiest aeons. But that had been a long time ago.

The pyrefly hovered and Wakka paused.

But she is safe. He knew then, that somehow, it was the pyrefly itself that spoke. The remnants of something else. His thoughts caught up with him, and for all he knew, this was just a voice that called out from the past.

A sigh escaped him. How could he have allowed the past to haunt him so? To think that he thought the fly was speaking directly to him. As if it had had something to say about the little girl that had been stolen from Spira.

He smirked and mentally kicked himself for falling prey to such an act. Glancing once more at the pyrefly, he turned on his heel and slowly headed back to the camp.

Liya will be saved from the fire.

And the sound of her name, Wakka stopped dead and turned abruptly to face the barely visible image of the Macalania Fayth.

A smile drew at the young woman's lips as she looked at him.

I thought that might get your attention.

Wakka glanced cautiously about with his eyes. Why would a Fayth show itself to him? For that matter, why would a Fayth cross the planes to appear to any mortal?

Because the Last Fayth is waking.

"What do you mean?" Wakka asked nervously. "I thought all the Fayth had already woken up."

Not all could wake. She replied. Two have been left in Zanarkand. The Sleeper, and the one who would guard her.

"Who are they?" Wakka asked desperately.

You have faced the Guardian. She hesitated for a moment as her image paled. But the Last, you've known her dreams.

"Why were they left here?" Wakka's brows knit. "Did you forget to tell them that they were done?" He crossed his arms. "Being selfish or something?"

They had to continue sleeping in order to shape the present world.

Wakka waited. He eyed the flickering image of the Fayth with suspicion.

But their presence now threatens all of Spira. Should the sleeper be wakened by prayer and summoned into aeon form, she could devastate all you've worked to secure.

"What do you mean?" He asked. "I thought that was what the Fayth created. I thought aeons were supposed to rise."

She was never meant to rise in that form, she was only meant to keep the balance between reality and dream.

"What's going to happen to Liya? What do you mean she'll be saved from the fire?"

She is protected by the ice aeon, now.

The Bevelle Fayth had vanished some time ago, and the party moved into the City of the Dead. Gippal did all he could to console the shaking girl that walked next to him. He, himself, was having trouble keeping his emotions in check, but he forced himself to be strong, at least for her, if not for their entire party. He squeezed her shoulder gently, reminding her that he was there, then kissed the top of her head.

"I still don't know what we're looking for." Yuna murmured as they approached the fallen city's center ring. A cold chill ran up her spine. She's already here. Yuna turned abruptly as the voice tickled the back of her neck.

Tidus looked to her questioningly. "Yuna?"

She heard him, but frowned as she continued to glance about. They're coming too close.

"Yuna, are you all right?" Tidus pressed her.

"Yunie?" Rikku choked out as she watched her cousin turn about in frustration.

"Don't you hear it?" She asked.

You have to stop them.

"Don't you hear it!?" Yuna asked frantically as she pressed her palms to her temples. She let out a gasp and fought to retain her sanity. "Can't you?"

If he gets too close, he'll make her pray.

Yuna dropped to her knees and slammed her eyes shut and without a second thought, Tidus kneeled down next to her. He slid his arm about her shoulders and she stiffened at the contact. She shook her head and murmured to herself, hoping desperately to quell the voice that had take up residence in her head.

Hurry.

Then it was gone, and Yuna's eyes snapped open. She stared blankly ahead of her, and her eyes beheld no color at all. They were merely spheres of opaque frost. Her arm slowly raised from her side and her hand pointed limply forward. "There." Her voice spoke in a multitude of octaves. "The living Fayth walks the path before us." She returned her arm to her side then tilted her head. "Beneath the city."

She moved forward through the cold underground with him right on her heels. Her eyes desperately glanced about for anything that could alert her to familiarity until her eyes fixed on a large object protruding form the wall up ahead. A gasp escaped her when the form came to her eyes.

Her feet stopped and stared for a long while. He didn't say anything, nor did he push her forward. He allowed her to move forward herself. Tears threatened to fall from her eyes as she moved towards the body that was partially consumed by the rocky surface. Black hair that was sprinkled with strands of silver, hung beautifully to the floor. A single arm rested along the jagged surface and disappeared at the wrist into the wall. The face was turned away, but the red dress still held to the shoulders and covered most of the sleeping body.

Liya's mind flashed before her. She had seen this before. Shadowy remnants of the Fayth that were slowly vanishing form the Fayth Scar upon Gagazet. But this one, it was as if the Fayth still lived. Still slept in this cold place. Liya's hand rose hesitantly from her side and reached out to touch the sleeping Fayth. As her fingers neared, a voice whispered to her.

You're too close to the sleeper. She has already taken one to stop you.

The voice was gentle. As if it knew that it spoke to a child. Something about it was warm and Liya knew she had nothing to fear from it.

But always remember. Like you said you would.

Liya sighed as she dropped her hand to her side.

Don't look so glum.

"Let's go." He murmured in a gruff voice.

She looked up at him, as if she was stung by those two little words. As if she knew now what lay ahead, even as her curiosity raced and her fear pushed itself to her surface. Fire erupted upon the walls, flames that burned so black, and their hearts held to blue.

He took a cautious step back and hesitated. She stood firm, however. Ice formed at her temples and ran a line down the outsides of her arms. Her body took on a cold hue as her lips turned blue. Her hand raised from her side and extended towards him. "You said it was time to go."