Old Friends

Liss was relaxing in her quarters after a long day of fiend hunting on the Highroad when she heard a rapping against the doorframe.

"Hi Paine," she said, sitting up.

"Liss," Paine replied. "How did it go today?"

"Pretty well, although I feel like there's not much more I can learn by fighting these particular fiends." Liss stretched her arms, sighing. "I'm looking forward to going up against something different." The cadets would leave Luca next week to spend some time at Defense Force Headquarters at Mushroom Rock. There, the young fighters would be sent out on actual missions lead by working soldiers, for testing and evaluation. All the students had been anticipating the change of scenery, and after nine months of training, Liss was more than ready to get into the field for real.

Paine nodded. "I bet you are, and that's sort of why I came by. I'd like you to try something new in class tomorrow. I want to see how you do with Auron's sword."

"With..." Liss felt the blood drain from her face. "Really? Do you really think I'm ready?" Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"I do." Paine leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms. "But if you aren't sure--"

Liss swallowed. "Well, no. I'm not sure. But I do want to try. Especially if you think I can handle it."

"Good." Paine smiled at her cousin. "You might want to take it by the armory before class, make sure it's still sharp and that the enchantments are holding."

"Will do. I mean, yes ma'am!" Liss saluted Paine as she straightened.

"See you, and the sword, tomorrow," Paine said, and then she left.

After watching her go, Liss stood, then turned to look at Masamune, hanging in its place of honor on the wall over her bed. All her life, it seemed, she had dreamed of being worthy to wield her father's weapon. She still wasn't convinced that she was, but Paine had confidence in her, and she had come to respect her cousin and teacher's opinions a great deal. If Paine thought she was ready to try, then she was probably ready.

It still took Liss a few moments to gather the courage to reach for the sword. Curling her right hand around the hilt, she carefully tipped it up, then removed it from the hooks upon which it rested. Though a bit heavier than the blade she typically used, the balance was perfect. She rang her left index finger carefully along the edge, then brought that hand to the hilt as well. She held the sword up as if poised to attack, feeling the pleasant weight of it pulling down on her arms and shoulders. She thought about the man who had last held this sword in this way, and smiled.

When Sam came by to collect her for dinner, she had not moved, and the smile did not fade for the rest of the night.

The beach was strewn with rubble, mainly remnants of the cannon that Sin had ripped apart not even an hour ago. Survivors were beginning to gather, the whole assisting the broken, all moving in the direction of Djose Temple. The destination made sense -- the priests there would be able to heal, the warrior monks to protect should Sin decide to return. Still shaken by my final confrontation with Kinoc, I took up a post at the head of the trail leading away from the beach and toward Djose and waited for the rest of my party to finish their business.

Seymour, who had been conversing with Yuna, now walked past me with a respectful nod as he headed up the Djose road. I saw Yuna bowing to him in farewell, and then she turned away, beckoning to Lulu and Wakka, who were both waiting for her. I wondered at the Maester, who seemed to have taken a personal interest in the young summoner, but I also thought Yuna was too focused on helping the fallen and continuing her journey to have truly noticed. That was probably a good thing -- if Seymour had been involved in this plot to break the Crusaders, if he were Kinoc's ally, I wanted no part of him. And neither should Yuna.

Bearing witness to this travesty was going to make it much more difficult to conceal my true opinion of Yevon.

My own attention shifted to Tidus, who had also been watching Yuna with Seymour. He turned to me then, and I saw a tinge of sadness in his eyes. This horror had to have been especially hard for him, knowing what he now did about Sin's true nature.

"Sin is Jecht," I said, quietly.

"Yeah," he said, eyes cast downward. "For awhile there, I thought I could feel him." Then he met my gaze, and his expression was defiant. "But that doesn't mean I believe you."

"Sin is Jecht," I repeated, more forcefully this time. "He came here for you."

His brows knitted together. "So he killed all those people just for a chance to see me?"

"That's what Sin does," I said. "He wanted to show that to you. Do you know why?"

He shrugged and looked away for a moment, then back at me. "How am I supposed to know?" he said, his belligerent tone almost slipping into a whine.

"So you would kill him." I gave my words a moment to sink in before continuing. "As long as he is Sin, Jecht will keep killing. He wants you to stop him." Throughout this discussion, I had done my best to keep calm and emotionless, but on these last words, my voice shook slightly.

For an instant he looked stunned. Then I saw the mask of disbelief and denial slam back down on his face. "You gotta be kidding," he said. "How do you know all of this anyway?"

I shook my head with a chuckle and turned to go -- the others were forming up a small distance down the road. And the leave-taking provided a good excuse to end the conversation. It was not yet time to discuss the source of my knowledge on this subject. I trusted him not to blurt out the truth about Jecht, but since he had no context for the rest of my story, who knew what hints he might accidentally drop if I told him more? Best to leave it lie.

"Hey! I'm not done talking to you. Don't you run away!"

"You're the one running," I shot back over my shoulder, not pausing as I walked. I still hadn't really expected him to fully accept the truth, although this talk had gone much better than our last on the topic, in Luca. He would come around. There was time.

Several hours later, we filed out of the Chamber of the Fayth in Djose and into the temple proper. I took advantage of the free moment to look around and really consider the place. I had so many memories here: childhood pilgrimages, Crusader ceremonies, visits with Braska and Kinoc, my first battle with Sin. Watching Wakka comfort a friend from Besaid as the two of them grieved for Gatta, I found myself thinking of my old friend Jass for the first time in many years and said a silent prayer, directed at no one in particular, for his peaceful rest. Thanks to years of indoctrination, praying was a strong enough habit that I hadn't been able to give it up entirely despite my loss of faith in Yevon. I formed the thoughts more or less automatically, though now I sent them elsewhere. Sometimes I prayed to the fayth; hard not to believe in them, after seeing them act through Braska and now Yuna. On other occasions, my words went to the universe in general. I still found it comforting, even though part of me felt that I ought not to.

As our party dispersed -- the others to rest, Yuna to help tend the wounded and send the fallen, Kimahri by her side -- I found myself drawn to Braska's statue once again. I had paid my respects already, when we first arrived, but still I could not look away from the graven image of my old friend. Lost in thought, I almost did not hear the man approaching me until he stood by my side. I turned and looked into the familiar, and somewhat astonished, face of a warrior monk commander.

"Captain!" he gasped, and then I realized who he was.

"Rickard. What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, with a small smile. "Running the place, believe it or not." I found a smile spreading across my face as well. Young Rickard, a commander. Although not so young anymore -- like me, he had to be into his thirties by now. He had been among my best men in Gray Squadron. I may not have had much use for Yevon any longer, but I was still pleased to see the success of a friend and protégé.

His initial shock mellowing into pleased surprise, Rickard lightly bumped my shoulder with his fist. "Do I get to ask the same question, sir?"

I inclined my head slightly. "I am still a guardian. Or again, perhaps. I journey with the Lady Yuna."

"The High Summoner's daughter?" I nodded. "Then Yevon be with you, and grant you another successful pilgrimage!" He saluted me and started to turn away, then looked back. "If I may be bold, sir, what are you doing right now?"

"I have no duties," I said, "and we aren't leaving until morning. Yourself?"

"Nothing I can't put off for an evening. Come have dinner with me. A lot has happened in the last ten years. Including some things you ought to know."

"Thank you," I replied. "I believe I'll take you up on that."

I had been to the barracks of Djose Garrison many times -- Kinoc had served here, as Lead Sword and then captain of the First Squadron, for over four years, and I'd visited him regularly, on both business and pleasure. Very little had changed in the passageway carved through stone that lead from the temple, or in the collection of buildings nested into the side of the bluff, looking out over the sea. Men saluted Rickard and bowed to me as we passed. As with Gray Squad, there were none I recognized, although they had more of a familiar look about them. I could imagine them as monks of the Order in my day. In contrast, there had been something unusually cold and hard in the faces of Kinoc's men.

Soon, I was seated in the commander's quarters across the table from Rickard, a plate of fish and vegetables in front of me, a glass of wine by my hand. I took a sip and found it a surprisingly good vintage, although I could have used something stronger. It would not do to betray that particular weakness here, though; I would fortify myself later.

"So tell me about the last ten years," I said, my voice as commanding I could make it while keeping the tone conversational. Best if I could control this conversation, ask questions instead of answering them. I followed my words with a small bite of the fish. It was actually rather palatable -- Djose must have found itself a decent cook this year.

Rickard swallowed his mouthful, then followed it up with a bit of his wine. "Of course, sir. Hmm, where to start? Well, I guess you know I was Kal's Lead in Kilika for awhile? That was about two years, then I got promoted to captain. Bounced around different squads for awhile, then the command opened up here and I was granted it. Just over four years ago."

I was almost afraid to ask, but I had to know. "And Kal?"

"Commander Kal, you mean?" Rickard's eyes glinted with pleasure. "Leads Kilika Garrison, and has for ages. We're still in close contact, and he's doing very well. Shall I pass on your greetings?"

"Please do, along with my congratulations," I said. So Kal was alive, well, and successful. That was probably the best news I'd heard since my return to Spira.

We spent the next several minutes talking about other men we had known in the Order -- friends, superiors, rivals. Some were promoted, some retired, a few had passed on. But we danced around the central name until we had almost finished our food. Then Rickard set down his fork with a sigh. "Some more wine?" he asked. I waved my hand toward my glass with an affirmative grunt, and he stood up to get the bottle and pour. "So, I suppose you know about Maester Kinoc." His mouth twisted on the words, as though it hurt to say them.

I nodded. "Saw him at the operation. So then, Brac..."

"Yeah." Rickard glanced at the door and saw that was firmly closed, then sat. "Three years ago. Under... I guess to say 'suspicious circumstances' would be an overstatement. He was old, he'd been slowing down, then got sick the previous winter and never really bounced back. But still, there was talk. Nothing too loud, you understand. It's very risky to say anything against Kinoc, even behind closed doors. He's put his people in place everywhere."

"That doesn't surprise me." I took another drink, then asked another question. "What was the talk about? If it's safe to ask."

"Well, rumor was that there was some sort of power struggle going on between Grand Maester Mika and Maester Brac, and that Kinoc was Mika's man in this. I believe it -- Mika has favored Kinoc for years, even when he was still High Commander. When Brac took a turn for the worse in his final illness, Mika banished everyone from his quarters, supposedly to give him complete rest. But Kinoc and a summoner loyal to him were both with him when he died. I don't think anyone really suspects foul play -- Kinoc is Brac's grandson by marriage, after all, a part of the family. But they were awfully certain to make sure Maester Brac was properly sent."

"I see." I set down my glass and dropped my head for a moment. So Brac was truly gone. He had been old, our bond broken many years past. But I still felt a hollowness in my breast at the news of his passing, and at Kinoc's possible hand in it.

"Hey." Rickard tentatively touched my hand, then pulled back. I looked up and met his gaze. "I know you and the Maester had your differences. It was atrocious, what he did to you. But to his credit, I think he knew that. I went back to Bevelle for a couple of years, served as captain of Third Bevelle. And it was obvious that he and Kinoc never really developed a good working relationship, certainly not like the one he had with you. He never came out and said anything, but I'm pretty sure he regretted driving you away." He tilted his head to the side. "I was also there for the celebration of Lord Braska's Calm, when no one knew whether or not you had made it out alive. And he mourned you, Auron. That day, and ever after." He looked away from me then. "We all did."

I had no idea how to respond to this. Of course people had assumed me dead. And now that I was walking among them again, they would assume the opposite. I pulled the wineglass back to me and tipped it slightly, staring at my dim reflection in the ruby-red liquid. "You honor me," I said quietly.

Rickard took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "There's something else you have to know, if you don't already. It's... ah." I looked up as he pushed his chair away from the table, its legs shuddering against the stone floor, then stood and paced to the window. "Yevon, this is hard. "

I stood up as well, the hollow place in my chest spreading in anticipation of what had to be more bad news. "Please, Rickard. Whatever it is, just say it."

He sighed again. "All right. It's Tzeki Village. " He glanced at me over his shoulder. "It's gone."

Struck numb with shock, I could only repeat his words back to him. "Gone?"

A slow nod. "Just about a year ago. Sin, it... it attacked the Djose Shore. Surprised a company of Crusaders and killed almost all of them in a particularly vicious attack. The wounded, the few they had any hope of saving, were brought here. One man... fayth, Auron, I've never seen anyone sustain injuries that severe and still survive. Most of the others didn't." He paused to shudder at the memory, then continued. "Anyway, Sin passed by here and went up the Moonflow. Because there were so few Crusaders left, I lead both Djose squads up to the shoopuf station in hopes of catching it, but it was too late by the time we got there. Tzeki was completely destroyed. We... we didn't find any survivors." He stared out the window throughout this speech, not looking at me, clearly unwilling to see the pain he knew this news would cause. "I'm sorry."

Hollow no more, the space that had been empty was quickly filling up with agony, my usual stoicism shattered by the sheer magnitude of this news. My home, my childhood, everyone I had known and loved all my life, taken from me in a single moment. Xan, Paine, Relle... I turned away from Rickard and reached for the nearest solid thing I could find, which happened to be the wall. I leaned my hands and forehead against it, pressing my palms into the plaster with all my might, channeling the force so that I wouldn't ball them into fists and punch through.

"Auron." Rickard's voice came from very far away. I dimly heard his footsteps crossing the room behind me. "Auron, there's more. About someone whom I think may be very important to you. A woman named Arelle?"

My head snapped up, and I whirled around. "Relle?" I whispered as my heart started to pound.

"Yes. She wasn't in the village at the time of the attack."

"You are certain?" My words were still barely audible, grief and hope pressing down on my chest with such power that it was difficult to speak.

He nodded. "I met her in Guadosalam a few weeks after the Calm came. We were both visiting the Farplane, looking for you. We got to talking, and she mentioned needing a place to stay. So I took her to Jass's grandmother -- remember he used to talk about her? Anyway, I escorted her to the family farm, which is on the border of Macalania Woods, near the Calm Lands, and got her settled. And she's still living there, as far as I know."

The weight eased, just a little, although I wondered why she hadn't felt she could stay in the village. "And she is well?"

I saw a struggle in his eyes as he wrestled with some decision. He was silent for a long moment, then nodded again. "She is. Last I heard from her, anyway. We communicate, occasionally -- just as friends," he quickly assured me. "Acquaintances, really. You should go see her, if you can manage it."

Alive. Relle was alive. And I knew exactly where, too, because I had once accompanied Jass on a visit to his grandmother. The farm was only a short distance from Bevelle. I leaned against the wall again; my trip from worry to crushing grief to overwhelming relief in the space of a minute had exhausted my emotions. I closed my eye and let the conflicting feelings wash over me, then pulled the sake jug off my belt and lifted it to my lips. I took a gulp, feeling it burn in my mouth and all the way down my throat as I drank. I followed that swallow with several more. Only then did I feel strong enough to open my eye and ask Rickard a question. "My family," I said. "Do you know for sure..."

"I knew Arelle would want this information as well, so I made some inquires," he replied. "I'm afraid that your sister--"

I interrupted him. "I already know that she passed away some years earlier. But my brother-in-law and their daughter? And my father?" I wasn't sure how I felt about the idea of Dix's death, but I needed to know regardless.

"According to some men who had been away on a fishing expedition -- they showed up not long after we did -- your father moved away from Tzeki along time ago. And your niece wasn't there either. But your brother..." He shook his head. "I'm sorry. He was among the casualties. We found his body in the rubble."

So only Xan was lost. Still, that was bad enough, and I shut my eye again, the automatic prayer forming in my mind. When I looked back to Rickard, I saw that he, too, had assumed a posture of reverence.

"Do you happen to know the whereabouts of Paine, my niece?" I asked. I doubted I would have time to search for her, but if her location was convenient...

"Not precisely," he answered. "They told me that she'd left home a few months before, to join the Crusa--" And he stopped short, silence falling as both of us realized the implications.

"I didn't see her there," I said after a moment, projecting a confidence I did not truly feel. That meant next to nothing; I hadn't seen the girl since she was five. What chance had I of recognizing her? "Not among the living, or the dead. Perhaps she was assigned elsewhere."

"I shall pray that she was," said Rickard. But he looked doubtful, and he shook his head. "I'm sorry to be the bearer of so much bad news."

"It wasn't all bad," I said, thinking briefly of Relle. "And you're right, I needed to know. Thank you, Rickard, for dinner and the information. It was good to see you again."

"You as well," he replied. "If you do see Arelle, give her my best?"

I nodded. "Goodbye, my friend." We saluted one another, and then I left him. I had been away from my summoner long enough; it was time to prepare for the next day's journey.