Disclaimer: Characters, settings, and concepts are copyright Squaresoft/Square Enix. If you recognize it, I don't own it. Original characters, however, are mine.

Comrades

The next few hours were a whirlwind. Father Braska left us upon our entry to the city to go see his family, after extracting a promise that I would come to his home for a meal at my first opportunity. Then Father Shon showed me to the part of the temple complex where recruits to the warrior monks were received. A bored-looking functionary took my name and waved me in the direction of the barracks.

Before he left me, Shon looked at me kindly. "Young Auron," he said, "you have done well in protecting Braska and myself from fiends on our journey, and for that I thank you. You clearly have talent with the blade, which bodes well for your future as a warrior monk. The blessing of Yevon be upon you in this and all your endeavors."

"Thank you, Father," I said, bowing.

"Best of luck, my son," he replied, briefly laying a firm hand upon my shoulder. When I rose from my bow, his figure was receding the distance, and I was finally alone.

After a few minutes of walking, I reached the door to the room I had been assigned, and cautiously opened the door. It was a spare room, wood floor and white walls, a simple orange and green banner bearing the symbol of Yevon hanging across from the door. There were four bunks in the room, and three heads swiveled toward me as I walked in. I went over to the empty bed, the top bunk on the right-hand side, and laid my bag on it, then turned around to see that one of my roommates was already standing next to me.

"Hello!" he said cheerfully. He was short, with a round face and close-cropped light brown hair. "My name is Kinoc, and I'm from Luca. And these fellows are Jan and Kal -- they're brothers from Kilika." I looked over to the other two young men sitting on the bottom left bunk. Both were tall and lean, with the look of blitzers. One had bright red hair; the other was blond. They nodded politely to me.

"Auron," I said. "From Tzeki Village, on the Moonflow."

"You're just in time," said Kinoc, "we're supposed to meet the Maester in a few minutes. Do you want to get cleaned up from your journey first?" He gestured over to a basin and mirror in a corner of the room.

"Thanks," I responded. I walked over to the basin and splashed water on my face, then pulled out my best clothes: black breeches, a new white shirt, and my long red coat. This last was my favorite item of clothing -- I had always been drawn to the color red, and last year at the annual Shoopuff Crossing fair, I had spent half an hour eyeing this particular coat before passing it up as too expensive. Kera and Relle snuck back and pooled all their gil to buy it for me, presenting it as a birthday gift. After my sword, it was my most treasured possession. I changed quickly, pulled my boots back on, then wiped down my sword and strapped it to my back. A quick check of my hair -- I had washed and rebraided it the night before, so I only needed to tuck in some stray wisps -- and I was prepared.

"Ready to go?" Kinoc asked. I nodded. "We're supposed to assemble in the courtyard in front of the main temple entrance. I've been there before, so I can show you the way."

The four of us left the room, Kinoc in the front. He led us back via the corridors I had used earlier, past the bored bureaucrat, and through the Hall of Summoners. I felt awed all over again by the huge statues there -- they were probably twice as tall as the similar sculptures at Djose Temple. But we passed through quickly and exited the room by a side entrance.

We found ourselves in front of the Palace of St. Bevelle with the other recruits. The ground and walls were inlaid with brightly colored tile, and fountains danced all around us. The ocean sparkled in the distance. I glanced around at my new companions and saw about twenty-five young men, most appearing to be within a year of my age. Like my bunkmates, most of them had short hair, and I had to stop myself from fingering my braid nervously. I took a place in the ranks with Kal on my right and Kinoc on my left, and we waited in silence.

After a few moments, a warrior monk dressed in orange came out of the main temple door. Kinoc leaned over to me and whispered, "That's the entrance to Maesters' Court." I inclined my head slightly to indicate that I'd heard him, then returned my attention to the monk.

"Attention, new recruits!" The monk stood before us and saluted, bringing his right arm across his chest with his hand in a fist. I returned the gesture, as did most of the others. "Presenting His Grace Maester Brac, Maester of Yevon and leader of the warrior monks and Crusaders." He stepped aside, and another figure appeared through the temple doors.

In unison, we made the deepest, most respectful prayer bows we could manage. Then I straightened to study the Maester. He was very tall, the height of a small Ronso, and dressed in orange, green, and white robes. Although he had withered with age, it was clear that he had once been powerfully muscled. A former warrior, for sure, I thought, slightly surprised that he hadn't come from the ranks of the priesthood. His hair was pure white and twisted into a knot atop his head. A neat beard framed his chin. Deep-set dark-brown eyes rested above a massive nose and below a heavy brow. I was immediately drawn to those eyes -- even at this distance, they sparked with keen perception.

"Greetings," he said, in a voice pitched much higher than I had expected given his size. "Welcome to Bevelle. You have all chosen to receive training as warrior monks, one of the most sacred callings of our people. For the next year, you will train, learning the art of battle and the mysteries of Yevon. At the end of that time, those of you deemed worthy will take the oath of the warrior monk and devote yourself fully to the defense of the temples. I must inform you now that the training is difficult and not for the weak of body or spirit. It takes patience, hard work, and total dedication. If you feel that this is not your true path, then you are welcome to leave now and no one will think any less of you." He paused and looked around the courtyard. No one moved. He nodded. "Very well, then. Your training begins now." He bowed to us, and we returned the bow as he turned to walk into a different side door. The warrior monk who had introduced the Maester indicated that we should follow.

My eyes began adjusting to the darkness of the chamber. All around us stood staffs topped with flags. I glanced at Kinoc, who shrugged -- apparently he didn't know what was going on now, either.

The Maester waited until we had all settled into place, then gestured with his right arm. Torches suddenly blazed up all around us, and we were surrounded by a riot of color. Dozens of banners hung off their staffs in the still air. Ancient characters and symbols decorated them; I thought I recognized the sigil of Djose on a blue and silver banner but couldn't be certain. Maester Brac stood next to a staff topped with a gray banner, edged in an earthy green and bearing an orange symbol.

"This is the Hall of Monks, the official headquarters of the warrior monks of Yevon and the most holy place for our order," said Maester Brac, sweeping his right arm before him. "What you see here are the standards that warrior monk squads traditionally carry into battle. They are rarely used now, except for ceremonial purposes, but we preserve them all here as a reminder of our ancient traditions. Many of these banners represent squadrons that predate Sin itself!"

An impressed murmur ran through the group. Glancing at the Maester again, I realized that the symbols on his stole matched the one on the banner he stood beneath. His personal sigil, or did it represent his rank?

"You will learn more about the history of our order as part of your training," the Maester said. "But I show you this now to help you realize what a long and glorious tradition you will become part of, should you join the ranks of the warrior monks. I commend you all for choosing to make the attempt. We will meet again soon." He raised his arms in blessing, and we bowed to him as he walked away.

The following weeks passed in a blur of training and lectures. I quickly determined that the two-handed sword was my weapon of choice -- my natural strength made me well-suited to wield the heavy blades. In other areas, I was not so skilled. My attempts to learn archery did not go well; I simply wasn't dexterous enough to handle bow and arrows with the necessary speed. Magic lessons were even worse. Within days, Father Falle, the magic instructor, was readying the healing potions as soon as I walked in the room. During one session in the second week, I managed to simultaneously flood the room with water, blind myself, and singe off my eyebrows with a lightning spell. Falle then excused me from the discipline entirely. Kinoc laughed very hard at me that evening, when I came stumbling back to our quarters sopping wet, face bare.

Kinoc and I became friends almost immediately. He had a relaxed manner that made him easy to like -- he reminded me of Xan in this respect -- and he broke past my natural reserve right away. We swapped stories of home, practiced dueling, and studied the teachings together. I was the better fighter, though he was faster, but he had a natural feel for healing magic and took a greater interest in tactics and history. We complemented one another and quickly resolved to stick together as long as our superiors would allow us.

Kal and Jan were friendly but more distant. My first instinct was correct; they had been blitzball players in Kilika, but Kal had been cut from the Beasts at the most recent tryout. Not wanting to be separated from his younger brother, Jan had quit the team and joined him in coming to the warrior monks. Both of them were skilled archers, and Jan had a talent for magic.

One sunny afternoon during our third week, the four of us took advantage of a break to look over the walls of the palace into the city below. I hadn't had a chance to visit it yet; our instructors kept us far too busy with training sessions and lectures to get away for more than an hour or so. A cool breeze from the ocean blew over our faces as we took in the scene. It was a festival day, so the marketplace was bustling with people preparing for the evening celebration. "Geez," said Kal, leaning far over the edge, "look at how crowded it all is! It's like Luca at tournament time." Jan and Kinoc both nodded.

"I wouldn't know," I said, almost under my breath. "I've never been to Luca." In fact, I'd never even seen so many people in one place in my life and was starting to feel intimidated again.

Kal grinned at me, running a hand through his messy blond hair, his hazel eyes cheerful. "You always seem so together, I forget you're just a country boy."

I snorted, more amused than offended. "Like Kilika Port is some teeming metropolis?"

Jan punched me in the arm. "How would you know? You've never been there, either!" We all laughed, then fell silent for a moment. St. Bevelle was situated atop a high hill, so the city lay far below us, but we could still hear the sounds of shouting merchants and smell fried street food.

"D'ya think they'll let us check out the city sometime?" Kal asked. We all looked to Kinoc -- his father was a recently retired warrior monk, the former commander of Luca Garrison, so he generally knew more about what was going on than the rest of us did.

"They should," he replied. "When Dad was in training, they got one day off each month to visit town. I hope they still allow that. If nothing else, I could use some real food for a change."

Jan groaned. "Please don't bring that up. When I think about our mother's roasted fish, and compare it to that horrible fish stew they feed us here, it makes me want to cry."

"Mmm, roasted fish with vegetables, and Dad's beer to wash it down," said Kal.

"Stop it, you're killing me!" cried Jan, and he started poking his brother in the stomach. Laughing, Kal slapped his hands away. The two started to wrestle good-naturedly.

Kinoc looked away from the spectacle and at me. "How about you, Auron? Any special foods from home you miss?"

Visions of Relle in the kitchen appeared in my head before I could stop them. I managed to avoid thinking about her most of the time, but when I did, I missed her desperately. Unbidden, the memory of the last meal she had made for me popped into my mind. "Spiced porridge," I said, turning back to the wall and staring off into the distance.

Kinoc joined me there and shot me a sideways glance. I could see that he was dying to ask what had provoked my sudden change of mood, but he already knew me well enough to understand that I wouldn't welcome the question. I returned his gaze and managed a smile. "I'll tell you later." Or maybe I wouldn't -- I still hadn't decided how much, if anything, to say about Relle. But it seemed the thing to say. He nodded, then turned his face back to the city and the water.

We got our first evening furlough in the city about a week later. I used most of the pocket gil that Dix had given me to buy a few blank spheres and a small recorder, then went out with my bunkmates. Jan had gotten a restaurant recommendation from one of his former blitz teammates. It was a hole-in-the wall on the waterfront, filled with traveling merchants and off-duty warrior monks. The four of us spent hours crowded at the bar along with half a dozen other trainees, eating fried fish, drinking beer and sake, telling outrageous stories and ribald jokes. I mostly listened and enjoyed the food, drink, and companionship. A few hours into the proceedings, I saw Jan throw his arm around his brother's shoulders and lead him toward the door.

Kinoc had noticed them, too. "Good luck, kid!" he shouted, raising his beer mug in a sloppy toast. "As much as you've had to drink, you're gonna need it!"

Kal grinned sheepishly as Jan thumped him on the back. "C'mon, bro. It's not polite to keep a lady waiting."

All manner of rude catcalls followed them out of the building, but I found I couldn't join in. I turned to Kinoc. "What was that all about?" I asked, resting my glass of sake on the bar, unsure whether I really wanted to know.

"Ancient warrior monk tradition, my friend," he said, taking another gulp of beer. "It wouldn't do to take the vows without knowing what you're giving up, right?" He winked, then lowered his voice conspiratorially. "How about it, Auron? Want to look for some... education?"

"No," I said, too loudly -- a few heads turned my way. Suddenly, the room was too hot and crowded, and I felt an overwhelming need to get out. I picked up my glass and drained it, then hopped off the stool and shoved my way outside.

I didn't realize just how drunk I was until I tried to walk in the fresh air. I made it as far as the railing by the water before waves of dizziness hit. I grabbed the rail and took some deep breaths, looking up at the starry sky until my nausea passed.

"Auron?" said Kinoc's voice behind me. "You okay?"

I exhaled sharply, then nodded. "I'm fine. Just... a little too much wine."

He stood next to me, curling one hand around the railing and resting the other on my shoulder. "Does it bother you?" he asked quietly. "Do you feel that it goes against the teachings, to take the vows if you've been with a woman?"

I felt the corners of my mouth tug up into a wry smile, and I looked at him. "If I said yes, I'd be a hypocrite."

His eyes widened, then he grinned. "Aha! So you do have a girl in that village. I'd wondered."

"Is it obvious?" I asked, concerned. If Kinoc had figured out the truth...

"No, not at all," he said. "But it does explain some... let's say, gaps in the stories you've told me, if you have a hometown girl but don't want to tell anyone about her. Like, I'm guessing that she makes a mean spiced porridge?"

I chuckled. "The best." I looked back out toward the water. "No, that's not it. It's only... you all seemed so casual about it. I was raised to believe that it was something to take very seriously."

Kinoc shrugged. "Some do, some don't. I've known sworn warrior monks, married and unmarried, who go out wenching after every campaign. Others are complete ascetics, never even touching a woman unless they find a wife. Most are somewhere in between -- they have a lover before taking the oaths, then give it up until they marry. If Yevon was serious about wanting chaste warrior monks, they'd start training us before puberty, like priests and nuns. But they don't; they choose to train men. Hell, Kal is the youngest of us, and he's nearly sixteen! So they're going to get a mixed bag, and I honestly don't see anything wrong with that, as long as we don't let it get in the way of serving the temples."

I considered his words. "Maybe you're right," I said.

"I know I am," he said firmly.

Silence fell, except for the raucous party going on in the restaurant behind us.

"Now what I'm wondering," he said after a few minutes, "is why you kept your girl a secret."

It occurred to me that Kinoc was as good a person as any to ask whether Father Shon's advice was correct. "I journeyed here with a priest who advised me to do so. He said it would be in my best interest to be available for arranged marriages." I glanced at him. "Was he right?"

He took a deep breath and dropped his hand from my shoulder, leaning it against the railing. Then he let the air out noisily. "Yeah. I think so," he said. "It doesn't matter so much yet, but once they start handing out promotions... wives do come with the deal sometimes. Not always, but often enough. My own parents' marriage was arranged. Mom was the daughter of the high priest at Macalania; Dad married her and got command of the garrison there."

"Hmm."

"Don't get me wrong; merit matters, and the best warriors get offered the best marriages. But if you aren't available at all, and you're ambitious -- and you should be, the way you wield a sword! -- yeah, it's a risk. Especially right now."

"How so?" I asked.

"Maester Brac's son recently became a priest in St. Bevelle. He has a thirteen-year old daughter. And the High Commander is about seven or eight years from retirement. You do the math."

Even my alcohol-fogged brain could see the implications. When the High Commander retired, the Maester's granddaughter would be of marriageable age. If all Kinoc told me was true, it was natural to assume that the Maester would want his second-in-command to be his grandson as well.

"You're right, I am ambitious," I said after a long pause. "But I'm not giving her up, Kinoc. I can't. I've loved her since I was fourteen. She's... she's a part of me."

"You probably shouldn't have to," said Kinoc. "Just keep doing what you have been. I promise I won't tell anyone. Besides, there will be more than enough commands where no marriage is involved. You might not end up High Commander, but then again maybe you will. Who knows?" He laughed. "Anyway, tell me all about this girl!"