197S9.9.24
I...must be seeing things.
Those cliffs...they can't be.
I refuse to believe it. It must be a part of Mount Gagazet or maybe the cliffs near the Calm Lands.
They couldn't have...
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They did.
We're back on Mushroom Rock Road.
When he realized this, Nooj broke into a string of invective the likes of which I've never heard and Gippal howled his amusement; I honestly thought he'd rupture something for how hard he was laughing. Even Paine seemed amused by it. I...cannot see the humor in this. I just don't understand any of this at all.
Why would they take us out to the torture of the desert only to return us to where we started? What was the point of that? Why does it seem as if they were just trying to cull the numbers, to make us less of an army and more of an unsorted assemblage of men? Do they want us all to die? Are the Maesters and their priests trying to kill those of us who volunteered to take up weapons against Sin? Are we just to be fodder, even if we do survive? Was I always so blind that I could put my unerring faith in these men who seem to know nothing and who will not even lift a hand to save another's life?
Every time I think of the Maesters and their decisions, I seem to find only questions and no answers. I cannot even begin to guess what the point of any of this is and I'm scared to think of the implications of that. No, maybe not scared of the implications...maybe scared that I had been such an unthinking sheep under their word and influence. If they cannot handle even a small group of men with skill, how can they handle the souls of those who believe? How can they guide the faith of all who follow Yevon, if they cannot even guide a broken army of men? How can they truly speak Yevon's Word with such filthy lips?
I cannot believe that I once would have laid my life down for them!
...but it wouldn't have been just for them. It would have been for all the souls in Spira, for all those who would have lived in the Calm, free of Sin and free of worry. Even if the Maesters are corrupt, the idea and the hope behind the Summoning must still be true, right? That, at least, cannot be shaken.
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Once again, our orders are to wait and they'll announce our final trial tomorrow.
I must have looked a little upset when this was announced because Gippal decided to tackle me. Naturally, this quickly devolved into our usual bout of wrestling in the dirt, but the usual competitiveness and fight of it was gone; it really just seemed more of a chance for us to be close together and to be able to touch each other freely...or maybe it was just Gippal's way of distracting me from the worry that we won't have a chance to be like this again.
When I went to him last night, I told him that I was so afraid that it would be the last time we'd be able to be together and he did his best to assure me that it'd be alright, that, even if we were separated, we'd still find a way to be together. It was so easy to believe that when he was holding me, when I could see and feel and taste him; now, while we sit here and wait for the Maesters to determine our fate, it's not so easy.
I know this should be the last of my concerns, but it weighs so heavily on me. He's become so close, so important to me that I can hardly imagine not waking up to that groggy, adorable grin. He's opened my eyes and shown me so much that I'm almost afraid that I'll regress back to the blind little priestling if he were to go. I've become so attached that I can't even pretend to believe, any longer, that this's just a case of two friends using each other as a way to relieve built up stress. Of course, if that is true, then it's likely good that our time is coming to a close; I'd hate to see the shock--or maybe even the revulsion--in Gippal's eye if he were able to discern my true thoughts in a moment of passion.
If he needs me to just be his battle boy, then that is what I'll be for him.
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It's so odd to be back in this place where it all started, to see the place where we made our first camp as Squad Five and to visit the range on which Gippal taught us all to shoot; it may sound odd for me to say so, but this place almost seems haunted.
I swear that I can almost see the four of us as we were then--a mismatched group more likely to kill than to help each other--and it shocks me when I compare it to how we are, now. I cannot imagine what allowed us to grow into this cohesive squad--let alone into a group of close friends--but I am so thankful for it. I can't really trace when or why the changes happened, but what does it matter? We carried each other through. We learned to grow and to adapt to fill each other's weaknesses. We taught and we helped each other to survive whatever pain the Maesters put before us and we not only triumphed; we also found strength and comfort and kinship in each other, the likes of which I've never experienced. No matter what happens tomorrow, we can say that we truly won, just for these facts.
...it is a bit odd, though.
Ever since we returned to the shooting range, Nooj and Paine have both been acting a bit odd. They both seem to be moving and acting as if in a daze and I have yet to see them really tear their eyes from each other; this is probably why Paine neglected to load her gun properly and ended up falling onto her back. Thankfully, she was uninjured by this and, when Nooj helped her to her feet, she looked as if she had never been happier. I'm so glad that they've finally managed to find the happiness they've so needed in each other and I only hope that they find a way to preserve it through this trial; maybe, tomorrow, I'll have another reason to fight. Maybe I can try to protect them both, so that they can continue in the euphoria they found in each other.
Some good may yet survive through this.
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Gippal taught me a bit about cooking a fellant, tonight, and I offered my Yunalesca's Tears to season it. Of course, I didn't tell him that the herb I crumbled over it had a strong part in the Summoner's tradition--I don't think he nor the others would have eaten it if I had--but it only seemed appropriate. No, this wasn't my last meal before going to claim the Final Summon, but it could well have been the last meal I will have with the people who are closer to me than blood; if I cannot share this bit of myself and my memories with them, then with whom could I?
The strong salt taste was a good reminder of the sea we crossed--twice--to come to where we are, as well as all those who were not strong enough to make it...even if the others seemed to think it was a bit too salty. Gippal said as much and, before I could stop myself, I answered that it was like the sea, much as I had said about him the night before. I saw a glint of recognition in his eye, but I'm still not sure if he took that as the compliment I meant it as. I wasn't sure how to convey this to him, so I simply smiled and inclined my head slightly; how could I tell him that the taste of the sea will now always remind me of him, of the comfort and the care he gave me? I really can't without sounding like a sentimental fool.
As I made my way to the pool to bathe, Paine pulled me aside for a moment. She still seemed a bit distracted, but she did manage to ask me to show her how to make Nooj's pain pills next we have some leisure time. I promised I would, but, thinking on it, I'll take a route which will not take from the needed time with her lover; she seems to understand the basics of alchemy well, so I'll simply write out the basic instructions and I can slip them in amongst her supplies. I'm sure she'll find the paper in the morning and, if she has any questions, she can ask me about it. I'm sure she'll be fine and, this way, Nooj will have his relief, no matter what may happen.
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I'd be sure that the time since I slipped that paper into the bag containing Paine's unused spheres had been a dream, if it weren't for the thin cut along my thumb and the old leather sheath sitting against my thigh. It still doesn't feel or seem real, no matter how many times I replay the events to myself. Then I remember the warm look in Gippal's eye and the way he looked at me...
After I finished at the pool, I slipped the instructions for the painkillers into Paine's supplies and, that done, I went to find Gippal. I found him still by the fire, but he was hunched over, working on something. Sitting by him, I watched him brush a bit of dust and bone chips from what looked like a very pale, slightly curved knife and, when I asked him what it was, he told me that it was a gift for me. This surprised me into a slight blush, but it was worth it since it caused Gippal to offer me that same cute grin he always wears when I blush. I immediately tried to tell him that he didn't need to make gifts for me, but he just sheathed the knife then handed it over to me.
I had no idea what to do or to say, so I simply sat there and stared dumbly at the worn leather sheath. I tried to find words to thank him for the gift or any other way that I could express my gratitude, but the silence drug on for quite a while. Finally, Gippal filled it by telling me that the knife is called a chrysknife and that it was made from the tooth of the sandworm which he'd killed in the desert.
I could only stare when he told me that.
To think that he would not only give me the prize of his kill, but that he'd take the time to shape into so fine of a gift; I simply couldn't believe it. It was such a warm, kind gesture and the tooth was such a symbol of him, of his strength and his perseverance over the desert and its creatures, of his culture and his blood, of the most difficult part of our journey...yet he chose to give it to me.
I must have stared for a while since he got this embarrassed look about him and told me to knock it off, that it freaks him out when I stare at him like that; I guess he doesn't like unbridled admiration as much as I had thought? Regardless, I drew the knife so that I could look more closely at the blade, but my hands must have been shaking slightly; the blade was no sooner clear of the sheath then it traced a long, thin cut along the length of my thumb.
The blade was so sharp that it really didn't hurt at all and no sooner had my blood fallen on it than the milky white blade absorbed it. I was fascinated by how the chrysknife seemed to drink in the blood, but I was more fascinated--or perhaps shocked--when Gippal reached across and cut his own thumb on the section which had just cut me. Much as before, the blood was soaked in, but I couldn't stop staring at the area where it had just been.
It astounded me.
Our blood was now blended in the heart of the blade and would remain so until the chrysknife is broken...perhaps even longer. It was such a serious gesture and it formed such a deep, lasting bond; it was hard to believe that he would knowingly perform such an act for nothing more than a battle boy.
Reaching across, I took his bleeding hand with my own and, though I dreaded the answer, I couldn't keep the question from my lips; I finally asked him if I really was nothing more than a battle boy to him. He fell silent for quite a long while and I watched as a range of emotions traveled across his features, disbelief prime amongst them. I was just about to call back the question, to laugh and to tell him that I had only asked jokingly, when he finally told me that it wasn't true, that I wasn't just a battle boy to him.
Such relief flooded through me that I thought I would burst! I wanted to thank him for that, to tell him how glad this knowledge made me, but I couldn't find words; it was as if I had forgotten every word in every language I had ever learned, so I could only try to convey to him through my eyes how much it meant to me. I...think he understood. I think he knows that I love him, that I need him. He didn't flinch back from it, and I'm glad. Maybe the words aren't needed, after all...
I'm going to go thank him properly, now.
If this is really going to be our last night together, then I intend to make it a night Gippal will never forget.