A/N: We're through with really heavy stuff for awhile. Still, you all knew it was coming, right? This is Auron's story, after all.

Guardian

Either my arrival or the time he spent with Yuna shook Braska out of his fugue state. Most likely, it was some of both. He bathed that evening, then ate a full meal for the first time in weeks. After putting Yuna to bed, we sat and talked for hours. He shared the horror of Tessa's death with me, raging and crying and letting out the emotions he had been unable to deal with by himself. Eventually, he was spent, and I sent him off to bed as well, watching over him as he slept, praying that he might find some peace in a few hours of oblivion.

The next day, we decided that I would move into Braska's home to begin preparations for the pilgrimage. He left for the temple that morning in order to apply for summoner's training. He also carried a message to Kal requesting the delivery of my personal effects. Rickard appeared with them that afternoon -- a few letters, spheres, and trinkets; my small stockpile of gil; some clothes; the sword Dix had given me the day I was sworn. I took this last item as if it were a dead animal. Maybe this was the weapon to fling into some deep water.

"Lieutenant Kal wanted to come personally," Rickard told me, "but he's tied up leading training exercises. He sends his greetings."

"Tell him I return them," I said. "How are things at the temple?"

He shrugged. "Not much has changed. Neither the Second Commander position nor the leadership of Gray Squadron has been filled yet. We're all hoping that Kal gets the Gray Squad job, of course, but rumor has it that the Maester is pretty ticked at him for standing up for you the way he did. It won't keep him from being promoted to captain entirely, though; Kal's too well respected, and you still have lots of influential friends to take his part. Commander Kinoc, for one -- his star is rising, and he's been making some noise on Kal's behalf. On yours too, for that matter. So has Commander Gibson. You could probably even still come back if you wanted."

I hated to wipe the hopeful look from his face, but I had to nip this in the bud. "I'm not returning," I said, my voice firm. "Braska will need me as his guardian. And I've no more patience for the politics of the temples and the Order. This is my life now, and I am content. But I do appreciate your support."

"Goodbye, then." He saluted me, and I bowed to him. "Yevon be with you."

After he left, I changed out of my old uniform -- all other considerations aside, traveling on foot to Djose and back with no change of clothing had left it essentially rags -- and into the plain white shirt, black pants, and brown coat that I typically wore while on leave. Then it was time for a much-needed trip to the markets. I required more appropriate clothes for training, and the house was woefully understocked with food and other basic provisions.

My first stop was an armory that also sold travel clothing. I stepped inside and immediately felt overwhelmed by the options. It had been literally years since I'd needed to make a decision about clothes or armor. But I needed an outfit I could fight in. The pants I wore would do, but the shirt and coat were not tough enough for battle, and my boots were wearing out. I wandered the store, fingering different tunics and breastplates, not even sure where to start.

"Can I help you?" A short middle-aged man appeared at my elbow.

I considered him, then nodded. "I want some sort of armored shirt, good for both training and fighting."

"What kind of fighting?" he asked. "And with what weapon?"

"Fiends, mostly. And I use a two-handed sword."

"Hmm." He considered me. "You're strong, so you can take some weight, but you also want freedom of motion in both arms. Hah! I know just the thing." He led me over to a shelf and pulled off a sleeveless black shirt. "Leather," he proclaimed. "Stronger than cloth, almost as good as plate, but much lighter and more flexible. Lined, so you can wear it without a tunic. Very popular style among the Crusaders lately. No sleeves, so your shoulders are completely free. You can wear a coat or cloak over it for warmth and protection. This looks to be your size; try it on." I did so, then took some swings with an imaginary sword.

"Yes," I said to the merchant. "I think this will do nicely."

"Good, good. Now, do you want a coat or a cloak? Or perhaps one of each?"

"I suppose each has its advantages... ah." A rack on the other side of the shop caught my eye as I spoke, and I walked toward it. A long red coat trimmed in dark blue hung there, putting me immediately in mind of the similar one Kera and Relle had given me so many years before. That garment was long gone -- after my first six months in Bevelle, it had no longer fit across my shoulders -- but I still thought fondly of it, even now.

"That's a fine item," the merchant said as he followed me. "Made of heavy silk broadcloth that will last forever with normal wear. Warm in cold weather, breathes in hot; very versatile. I'd bet it's your color, too." He pulled the coat off the rack and helped me into it; it fit perfectly. I caught my image in a mirror, and it pleased me a great deal.

"Now, take a look at this!" The man walked off, then returned with a wide belt, which he fastened around my waist. "Pull your arms out of the sleeves." I did so; the top half of the coat fell and hung from the belt. "If you're overheated, or the sleeves get in your way, you can pull them off without the coat falling to the ground. Easy on, easy off, and you'll never lose it in the heat of battle."

"Clever," I said appreciatively. "I will take them all. And then, could you kindly direct me to a cobbler?"

"Great party, Paine!" Rikku hugged her friend with a big grin. "As always."

"Do you need any help cleaning up?" Yuna asked as she shifted her sleeping daughter to a more solid position on her shoulder. Tidus was long gone -- the Aurochs had drawn the first match of the day tomorrow, against the Al Bhed, so he'd needed to make it an early night.

Paine smiled. "Thanks, but Baralai and I can handle it. It's not a disaster if we have to leave most of it for tomorrow."

"If you're sure. Okay, see you at the game!" With that, the last three guests left. It was midnight, and blitzoff was scheduled for nine in the morning. Most years, Paine skipped the first couple of rounds -- she was at best a casual fan of the sport -- but she knew that Yuna would be disappointed if she didn't help cheer on the Aurochs.

Paine glanced around at her yard. Fortunately, their friends and the recruits were a fairly tame lot, so the mess was minimal. But quite a bit of work still awaited her. She started her mental triage of which tasks needed to be finished before she could sleep, like putting away the food, and which could wait.

A pair of arms slipped around her waist from the back, and a cheek came to rest against hers. "Hey."

"Hi." She closed her hands over Baralai's elbows and sighed contentedly. "Good party, don't you think?"

"Mm." They stood together, enjoying one another's company and the satisfaction of hosting a successful event.

After a few minutes, Paine stepped forward despite her reluctance to leave his comfortable embrace. "We should at least pack up the leftovers."

"I suppose." Baralai walked over to the table and regarded the plates of food. "Three years now, we've been doing this. Remind me why I always make too much food again?"

Paine hid a smile. "You're a good host, and a good host would never run the risk of letting his guests go hungry. Remind me why you're a Councilor and not a full-time chef?" She picked up a cookie and bit into it.

He sighed. "Because much as I try to deny it, politics are what I love, and I can't imagine doing anything else. If Yuna hadn't freed us all from Yevon, I'd probably still be in Bevelle, scheming and plotting and worming my way into the Maesters' good graces." Paine held her breath for a moment, wondering if he would continue this train of thought -- he could go several different directions with it, and most of them lead into sore spots. He didn't, though; instead, he fell silent, then started consolidating the leftovers onto fewer plates.

They worked in silence for a few moments. As they each lifted a pile of dishes and headed for the kitchen, Paine risked a comment that she hoped would be a change of subject. "You and Liss chatted for quite a while."

"Yeah. She's a great kid. I enjoy having her in the family." His eyes were thoughtful. "But that letter brought up so many issues for her."

Paine pushed open the back door, holding it in place as Baralai entered the house. "It's only natural that she would have idealized Auron. His legend was really all she knew about him. Now he probably seems all to human, a real man with real flaws, and that's a serious adjustment to make. For me, too, frankly. Not to mention discovering such an awful truth about one of her few living blood relatives."

"Your grandfather?" Baralai said as he rested his stack on the counter.

She nodded. "It is simply beyond me how he could have done such a thing."

"The whole affair makes no sense." He pulled out an empty pot with a lid and started filling it with the remaining snacks. "Dix didn't strike me as a particularly stupid man the one time I met him, but to follow through with such an ill-conceived plan..." He shook his head. "Why?"

"Desperation, I suppose. Maybe he just doesn't think well on his feet? I don't know him well enough to say." Paine turned away, to start piling dishes in the washbasin, but also to hide her face. She did know why -- it had been in the letter. But she'd held that part of the story back from Baralai and asked Liss to do the same. She wasn't quite sure how he'd react to it. Better to sidestep the issue entirely, at least for now.

"She seemed to relax and have fun later, though," he commented. "What's the name of that boy she was dancing with?"

"That's Sam." She finished with the dishes and turned back toward her husband. "He's a nice guy, and a talented fighter. The reports suggest that he'll probably end up a mage -- he's a natural, or so the instructors say. He and Liss hang out with the same crowd. I don't know whether there's anything more to it than that. "

Baralai closed up the pot and set it aside. "If there is, I think it would be good for her. Her faith in love has been badly shaken. She needs to experience it as a joyous thing, not just as a source of suffering."

"Like someone else you used to know?" Paine stepped close to him, moving in for a kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around her. "I love you, you know," she said softly as she slid a hand up his neck and buried her fingers in his hair. "Maybe I don't say that enough."

He broke into a gentle smile, and his eyes warmed. "But I know it regardless. You're here, aren't you?"

"Nowhere else I'd rather be," she assured him, and kissed him again.

Braska's apprenticeship went well. His age raised a few eyebrows -- most summoners began training in their late teens or early 20s, and Braska had recently turned 30 -- as did his disfavored status, but his determination was beyond question, and no one made any serious move to stop him. It helped that he already had superior magical ability along with years of the priesthood behind him.

I worked on my solo combat skills and helped Braska care for Yuna as well as keeping him company when the black periods of mourning and despair fell upon him. These lessened in frequency and severity over time, but they never went away entirely. I had my own bad patches but did my best to hide them. Braska knew the basic facts of the episodes with Brac, Relle, and my family, but I didn't want to burden him with my emotional state given the fragility of his own.

"It won't be forever" ...but as the months went by with no word, I began to worry. On my good days, I accepted that Relle would either forgive me eventually and take me back or not; other times, I would simply miss her, every fiber of my being crying out with loneliness, and become convinced that I had lost her forever. When I got into these moods, I would spend a hard afternoon with the sword, or a night alone in a tavern with a bottomless glass. Most often, it ended up being the former followed by the latter.

Winter melted into spring, and the day came for Braska to receive his first aeon. He appeared that morning wearing heavy robes and an elaborate headdress.

Yuna sat at the table, drinking a cup of juice. "Will you become a summoner today, Father?" she asked.

"I hope so, Yuna," he replied, ruffling her hair.

"You will," I said, confident in my corner of the kitchen. I finished my tea and set the mug on the counter. "Have something to eat."

"I rose early and ate before getting dressed. I'm prepared to leave if you are."

I took a deep breath and nodded. I hadn't been back to St. Bevelle since the day I'd left the Order, over four months ago now, and Braska knew that I'd been dreading it a little. But I was a guardian, or about to be -- accompanying my summoner to the Cloister of Trials would be one of my most important duties. Best to face them and get it over with. "Just let me finish getting ready," I said, pulling my coat on and fastening the belt over it. Then I slipped my left arm out of the sleeve, letting it fall. A gauntlet went over my right hand, bracer and glove on my left. I had hit on this compromise between comfort and protection during my hours of training. It looked a little odd, perhaps, but it suited me. I was curious to try the configuration out in battle. I also grabbed an old sake jug that I had rinsed thoroughly and filled with fresh water, and I tied it to my belt.

"Shall we?" Braska walked to the door, clutching his new summoner's staff. I followed him, lifting my sword from its place on the wall as I passed it.

I did not know the warrior monks on duty at the entrance to the temple. They knew Braska, though, and nodded to him as we passed. As we walked through the temple complex, I looked straight ahead, holding my head high, focusing on whatever lay in front of me. The temptation to glance around for familiar faces was almost irresistible, but I clung stubbornly to my dignity and kept moving.

The walk to the Cloister took about fifteen minutes. Then we had to climb down a long circular staircase. The entrance awaited at the bottom. Braska glanced to the ceiling, and I saw his shoulders rise as he breathed in slowly.

"Ready, my lord?" The summoner's title slipped out almost without my noticing.

He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. "Why so formal all of a sudden?"

I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "You're almost a summoner; I may as well get used to it."

"There is no need, you understand."

"We'll see. And you're stalling."

"You're right, I am." He looked back at the Cloister doorway. "No longer. Let's go."

It took us about an hour to puzzle out the maze of spheres and portals inside the Cloister of Trials, but eventually we won our way through and found ourselves outside the Chamber of the Fayth. I could hear a high, clear voice singing the Hymn. It sounded like the voice of a child.

"Shall I go in with you?" I asked.

"No." Braska glanced at the heavy stone door behind him. "This, I must do alone. Wait for me here. You understand that it could be some hours before I return?"

I nodded, then made my most formal bow of prayer. "Yevon be with you."

"Thank you." Then he was gone, and I settled down to meditate the time away.

The creaking of the door broke my trance. I immediately stood as Braska appeared. He walked out the door slowly, then started to stumble. I was there before he could fall, catching him in my arms. His eyes closed, then fluttered open, shining with the knowledge of new mysteries. "Are you all right?"

He let out a soft breath. "Yes. I am better than I have been in a long time."

I smiled down at him. "Then congratulations to you, Lord Braska."

He stood with great care. I slipped an arm about his waist for support, and we walked out of the Chamber as summoner and guardian.

It had been morning when we entered the Cloister; now it was late afternoon. The exit was in a different part of the temple from the entrance, and we came out near the main courtyard. Braska's master teacher, an elderly summoner called Nyaki, waited for him there. I helped him over to her, and she took his hands and looked deeply into his eyes. Then she stepped back with a smile.

"You have done it, my Lord Summoner," she said, her voice quavering but proud. "Now show us."

I stepped back as Braska pulled out his staff and held it with his right hand. He spread his arms wide, then spun the staff over his head in a complicated pattern. I looked up, and my eyes went wide with wonder.

It had been a clear day, but mystical clouds now gathered in the sky, the sun shining brilliantly through a small break in their mass. A pair of iridescent wings framing a golden wheel circled up to the light, then unfurled to reveal a black, muscular, man-shaped figure. He let out a huge roar; I suspected the sound could be heard for miles. The clouds darkened and flashed with lightning as thunder rolled in the distance. A ghostly pattern inscribed with ancient glyphs appeared in the air beneath the aeon. The wings folded, and their owner plummeted feet first through the inscription, rushing wind audible as he passed. Then, with an earth-shattering crash that nearly knocked Braska and me off our feet, the creature landed on the ground. It was an enormous black dragon, standing at least 15 feet tall with an even greater wingspan, the wheel hovering over his back. The aeon opened his mouth and roared again, stretching as if waking from a long sleep as the skies cleared again. Then he crossed his arms and stood at attention, as if awaiting a command. Braska's command, I realized, awestruck by the incredible power that my friend -- no, my Lord -- now had at his disposal. I took another step back and fell to one knee, bowing my head and closing my eyes. Over the beating of my heart, I could hear Lady Nyaki speaking.

"You have achieved much, my son," she said. "Bahamut, the most powerful of the aeons, is yours. But know that your journey is just beginning. Go now with your guardian and make your preparations. When you are ready, return here so that Yevon can bless you and your pilgrimage."

"Thank you, Lady Nyaki," Braska responded. "I will see you again within the month. Auron?"

I lifted my head but did not stand. "My lord?"

He smiled at me. "Please get up, you're making me nervous."

"As you wish, my lord." I rose slowly.

Braska dismissed the aeon with a wave of his staff -- it gathered its huge legs, jumped into the air, and disappeared with a rush of sound. "Come, let's go home and tell Yuna the good news."