Dinner With Friends

I sat on the edge of a fountain in the center of Bevelle's busiest marketplace. Dipping my hand in the waters, I scooped up a handful and drank, then closed my eyes and raised my face to the sky. It was only my second visit to the city, but already I was starting to feel more comfortable navigating the crowds and merchant stalls.

"Hey Auron!" I opened my eyes and saw Kinoc walking over to me.

"Hey," I responded. "Did you find something?"

Kinoc nodded, pulling a sphere out of his gil pouch and tossing it over to me. "It's a recording of the final game for the Crystal Cup three years ago, the Kilika Beasts' come-from-behind victory over the Ronso. I remember it well -- a game for the ages. I hope the recording quality is good."

"I will never been able to understand why anyone would want to watch the same game over and over, but I'm sure Kal will like it," I said. His birthday was next week, and Kinoc and I had decided to go in on a gift. I was clueless about blitzball, so I'd left the shopping to Kinoc. I lobbed the sphere back to him, and he plucked it from the air, tucking it back in his pouch.

"How about you? Finish your errand?" I nodded -- I had made arrangements with a supplier of my father's to carry messages back and forth to my family. Today, I had given the man my first recording, and two letters from home were burning a hole in my own gil pouch right now -- one from Kera, the other from Relle. I didn't want to read them in public, though; they could wait until I got back to quarters.

Kinoc sat next to me, then glanced at the sun. "We have a couple of hours before we're supposed to meet the guys at the bar; what do you want to do in the meantime?"

I pondered the question. I was enjoying the sunshine, but there was still so much of the city I hadn't seen. "Well, we could--"

"Auron?" I turned my head to see Braska walking up to me.

"Father Braska!" I said as I stood, bowing politely.

"No, no, just Braska, remember? I'm not on duty, and from the look of things, neither are you." I smiled and nodded. "How goes your training?"

"Very well," I said. "It's hard work, but I feel that my skills are improving every day."

Kinoc joined us then, and I introduced my two friends. Kinoc bowed to Braska, and the men shook hands.

"How are Tessa and your daughter?" I inquired.

A smile broke across his face. "Both very well, thank you. Would this be a good time to take me up on that dinner invitation? Tess has been wanting to meet you."

It was a tempting offer -- I had enjoyed Braska's company very much on our journey, and the thought of home cooking made my mouth water. I glanced at Kinoc. "Well, I had made plans, but..."

"Oh, go ahead," said Kinoc. "Once I give Kal his gift, he and Jan will probably spend the rest of the night talking blitz, so you'd be bored out of your mind anyway."

I laughed, then turned back to Braska. "I accept."

"Excellent," Braska said. "I just need to pick up a few things for the meal; do you mind coming along?"

"Not at all." I bid Kinoc farewell, then followed Braska into the marketplace.

The two of us wandered through the food stalls, shopping and chatting about nothing in particular. He picked up a loaf of bread, some vegetables, and a basket of prickly-looking red fruits that I didn't recognize.

"What are those?" I asked.

"Cactus fruits," he replied. "They come from the desert. Quite tasty once you cook them a bit to soften their skins. My wife likes them; they remind her of home."

"Ah." I fell silent as I realized that I was growing increasingly uneasy at the prospect of spending an evening with an Al Bhed.

To tell the truth, I had never spent much time thinking about the Al Bhed. Like everyone else, I had been taught that using machina was wrong, but I'd never thought of the Al Bhed as particularly evil -- more like misguided. I wondered if Braska's trip to their homeland had been a missionary effort to persuade them to stop using machina, or if he had adopted some of their ways instead. The image of a priest of Yevon living in a house full of machina actually stopped me in my tracks.

"Braska?"

He stopped and turned back to me. "What is it?"

I paused, struggling to form a coherent question and failing. "Do you have... will there be... does your wife use machina?"

He lifted an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly. "Auron, how much do you know about the Al Bhed?"

"Not a lot," I admitted. "Actually, I've never even met one before."

"That doesn't surprise me," he said. "I understand if you're uncomfortable with the Al Bhed -- you've been raised to think of them as the enemy of Yevon. So was I. But they really aren't. They just have their own point of view about Spira and its history. I hope you'll take the time to learn a little bit about it. As for the machina, to be honest I'm not the biggest fan of them either, so you won't see any lying around. Tess wouldn't be Al Bhed if she didn't tinker a little bit, but she has a separate workshop space. Now, if you've changed your mind about coming to dinner, I'll be disappointed, but I understand. But I hope you'll still join us."

"Of course I will," I said, relaxing. Learning that I wasn't about to be surrounded by machina put me a great deal more at ease. "Now you've got me curious. Besides, it would take a lot to get me to turn down homemade meal right now."

Braska's concerned expression melted into a smile. "Smart man," he said. "Especially if the St. Bevelle dining hall is still as bad as I remember."

After a short walk, we arrived at Braska's home. It was a cottage, slightly smaller than the one I'd grown up in, on the outskirts of town. I could see a small backyard with a shed, presumably the workshop that Braska had mentioned. Two bushes, blooming with purple flowers, framed the doorway. The curtains were drawn.

Braska opened the door and indicated that I should enter. Taking a deep breath, I did so, and he followed me. I found myself in a perfectly normal-looking living room -- two chairs, a baby's cradle, a fireplace -- with a kitchen on our left. "Tess?" Braska called out.

A female voice responded from the back. I couldn't understand a word of it.

"I've brought a guest for dinner," Braska responded.

"That's great!" the woman said as she walked into the room where we waited. She was several inches shorter than Braska, who was not himself a tall man. She had strawberry blonde hair cut just above her chin and a warm smile. Her eyes were green, but there was something odd about them. I didn't have a chance to figure out what before she walked into her husband's arms to greet him with a tender kiss.

"Rammu, so cfaad," Braska said. At least, that's what it sounded like. "Tess, this is Auron. He's the warrior monk in training who escorted Shon and I from Djose on our most recent trip. Auron, my wife Tessa."

I suddenly felt awkward -- normally, being introduced to the wife of a priest would require a formal prayer bow in response. But somehow that didn't seem appropriate when that wife was an Al Bhed. I settled for a salute instead. "My lady, it is a pleasure," I said.

"Likewise," she replied. To my surprise, she then bowed to me. "Welcome to our home. And thanks for protecting Braska on his journey. He told me all about you, and I've been hoping I'd get to meet you." She spoke Spiran flawlessly, although her voice held just a tinge of an accent.

"Thanks," I said. "I hear that you had a baby recently; congratulations."

She beamed. "Would you like to meet her?" I nodded. "Follow me."

The three of us walked back through the doorway into what was clearly a nursery -- the walls were painting soft yellow and purple, and a crib sat by the window. I approached the crib cautiously. There were usually at least a couple of small children around in the village, but I hadn't dealt much with them. However, I was quite curious to get a look at this one. Her hair was brown, slightly darker than Braska's. Wide-open eyes gave her a look of intelligence and curiosity. She didn't make a sound, but when her mother stroked her head, she smiled. I noticed that her eyes were mismatched -- one was clear blue like Braska's eyes, the other a sea green that matched her mother's.

I straightened and turned to Tessa. "She's a beautiful little girl," I said.

"I know," she said, her tone ringing with the pride of a new mother. As I looked at her face, I realized what had struck me strangely before -- rather than having a round pupil like a normal eye, her pupils spiraled into the center of the iris. She suddenly seemed completely alien to me, and I found myself backing away.

She noticed my discomfort but, to my relief, ignored it. "Come on, let's go make dinner. Do you cook?"

"Not really," I replied, recovering my poise, "but I'm very good at following instructions."

"Well then. Let's get started."

A few minutes later, I found myself in the kitchen, chopping vegetables. After so many weeks of swordplay, the knife felt absurdly small and lightweight in my hands. But I had many hours of experience helping Relle cook, and soon it was familiar again. Tessa seasoned a slab of meat while Braska cleaned the cactus fruit and tossed them into a pot. We worked in comfortable silence. Every so often I would look up to see husband and wife smiling at one another across the room. I could feel the love and affection radiating off both of them. It warmed my heart to see such happiness, but I also felt Relle's absence keenly.

I could see myself slipping into a melancholy mood, so I distracted my mind with a question. "What are you doing with the fruit?" I asked Braska.

"Pulling off the spines," he said. "Then we'll cook them over a slow fire with some sugar and have them for dessert."

"An Al Bhed delicacy," Tessa chimed in.

I turned to her. "Braska was telling me earlier that these are desert fruit. So Al Bhed live in the desert then?"

She exchanged a look with Braska. I thought I saw him shrug ever so slightly, and she let out the tiniest of sighs. "It's a long story, but yes. I'm sure whatever you know about Al Bhed history comes from Yevon, and if you believe everything they tell you... well, I know you're a devotee, so I'm not going to try and change your mind tonight. Long ago, we lived on an island. When it was destroyed by Sin, we scattered. We've made many attempts to build home cities in various parts of Spira, but the Yevonites have always come to drive us out in the end. About ten years ago, my older brother Cid found an uninhabited desert island, filled with machina ruins and scrap -- he thinks it may have been a huge junkyard at some point -- and built a settlement. He called it Home and invited all the Al Bhed to come together there. Most of us have lived there since. He's the first real leader we've had in a hundred years, but even he needs time to make the place stable. So we're keeping the location a secret for now. Braska is one of the few Yevonites who's ever been allowed to visit. You'll understand if I don't say much more about it."

She had still trusted me with far more information than I had expected. "I do. And you have my word that I won't tell anyone about your Home. Not that I have much to tell."

She let out the breath she'd clearly been holding. "Thanks, Auron, I appreciate it. So, are those onions ready?"

Dinner had been over for an hour, but Paine and Liss were still talking, chattering away like old friends who hadn't seen one another in a decade. Which they sort of were, Baralai concluded. Except rather than being reunited after a long separation, they actually hadn't known of one other's existence. Well, Paine hadn't, he corrected himself. Liss had known about her cousin, she'd just never met her. The two women had retired to the couch while Baralai busied himself with the dishes and tidying the kitchen. When he was finished, he put a kettle of water on the stove for their evening tea, leaned forward over the counter, and listened.

"I wish I remembered more about Uncle Auron," Paine was saying, her tone almost wistful. "You'd really need my parents for that, and, well..."

"I know," Liss replied softly. She looked away for a moment. "Do you mind telling me what happened to them? My mother told me that they both passed away some time ago, but she didn't know the details, or wouldn't share them."

"Not at all." Paine stared into the fireplace briefly. "Like I told you, we moved to Luca when I was five. Dad's cousins were working on building the original sphere theater, and they asked him to help. At the time, my parents told me we were leaving because they were afraid that the village was in too much danger from Sin -- we'd barely survived one attack already, and there were no Crusaders stationed anywhere close. Dad didn't admit until much later that the whole family had just gone through a huge, ugly upheaval, and Mom wanted to get away from them all for awhile."

Liss looked sad. "Mother always thought that was why your parents left the village."

Paine pursed her lips in thought. "Do you know what the fight was about? I heard bits and pieces of it, but I was too young to understand anything really. Then my dad was never willing to talk about it."

"Not really; my mother's never been much for discussing the past. It makes her too sad, I think."

"I can understand that." Silence fell in the living room, and Baralai had to restrain himself from walking over to Paine, taking her in his arms, and kissing her remembered sorrows away. But years of experience had taught him to leave her alone when she got into these moods -- if she wanted comfort, she would seek him out. Instead, he brought her a mug of hot tea.

Paine turned when he walked up behind her. "Thanks," she said with a smile, taking the cup in both hands. She blew away the steam, then took a sip. "Mmm. Liss, would you like some tea?" Her cousin nodded, and Baralai returned to the kitchen for another mug. "Anyway, my parents. Two years after we arrived in Luca, my mom died in childbirth."

"Oh, how awful," Liss breathed. "The baby?"

"He died, too," said Paine. "Dad was pretty torn up, as you might imagine. The job was over by this time, and the Calm had started a year earlier, so we went back to Tzeki Village. I lived with him there until I was fifteen, then went off to join the Crusaders. A few months after I left, Sin came through and completely destroyed the place. Dad was killed, along with practically everyone else living there."

Liss bowed her head. "I'm so sorry," she said. "I can't even imagine what it must be like to lose your home and your family all at once."

Paine shrugged. "It was hard, but it was a long time ago. In some ways, I consider myself lucky to have had my father as long as I did -- way too many children grew up without any parents at all in the days of Sin."

Baralai carried two mugs into the living room. He handed one to Liss, then settled into the chair next to the fire with his own. "Too true," he said. "It's almost strange to think of the children being born today. For them growing up with two parents will be normal, rather than a stroke of luck." He smiled at Liss. "And it's largely thanks to your father."

"Which reminds me." Paine stood up and walked into the bedroom. She came back holding a sword. Baralai recognized it, and his eyes widened in surprise -- was Paine really giving away such a treasured possession? "I know I told you that I'd find you something from the armory, but I'd like you to have this instead." She handed it to Liss. "This is my old sword -- I used it when I fought with the Crusaders. It's a piece of crap compared to your father's blade, but it's still better than anything I could pull out of the Defense Force warehouse. I hope it suits you."

Liss's eyes shone as she pulled the weapon from its scabbard. The polished metal gleamed in the firelight. Even from a distance, Baralai could tell that the edge was still sharp and true. "It's beautiful," she whispered. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Paine responded. "I look forward to teaching you how to use it." Liss rose from the couch, and the cousins embraced. Sipping his tea and smiling, Baralai stood up himself. It was time to bank the stove fire for the night.