Cloister One

Year two of the Eternal Calm; three years after the death of Chappu…

Beclem steadied his breathing, and moved both hands down very slowly to draw his pistols from their resting place on his belt. He took one step, placing his foot on the sandy ground beneath, and then, very carefully and deliberately, placed the other foot just in front.

The falling of his feet made no sound. Each movement was precise. It needed to be; one mistake could mean death in the Gunner's Gauntlet. If the fiends knew he was there before he was ready then they would charge, catching Beclem unguarded. Timing was crucial.

Despite the high level of danger involved, he found he was looking forward to this. It was the perfect way to vent some frustration, the main cause of which was Chappu's oh-so-legendary brother Wakka.

Chappu's older brother was nothing like Beclem had expected him to be, and in Beclem's eyes would never live up to the Wakka in Chappu's tales. Beclem couldn't bring himself to tell Wakka that he had known Chappu either. In fact, the only person that knew, apart from a handful of other ex-Crusaders, was the high Summoner Lady Yuna, with whom Beclem had formed a rivalry and uneasy friendship.

His old friendship with Chappu had been revealed to the woman through a careless comment during a conversation over commsphere waves. Beclem had a feeling the woman now felt that he was hiding more emotion than anyone had previously suspected he possessed. Yuna would have been right.

Wakka was kind enough; perhaps too kind at times, but he lacked Chappu's bravery, and Chappu's wit, and that special something Chappu had that made a room seem to brighten as soon as he walked in.

No, Wakka was definitely no hero, and any hope Chappu may have had that Beclem and his brother would become friends or more was completely unfounded.

Beclem still hadn't given Wakka the sphere either. It remained with the rest of his belongings back in his tent. Soon he would be leaving Besaid to return to the Youth League headquarters, and he still hadn't decided whether or not he should give the sphere to Wakka, despite his promise to Chappu. For a while he had selfishly contemplated keeping it for himself. It had already been watched more times than he could count, and was pulled out whenever Beclem was at his lowest, when he would remember all that he had lost, and sometimes reach out in an attempt to touch Chappu's face just one last time, despite the impossibility of doing so.

What hurt the most was that Chappu's beloved fiancée Lulu was about to have a child to the brother he used to idolise. The whole ordeal had turned Wakka into a nervous wreck. All other thoughts and priorities had been pushed aside in Wakka's mind to make room for the child.

Lulu was in labour right now. Beclem could not bring himself to help the happy couple, so instead he found himself fighting, as he so often did these days.

He charged into the labyrinth of fiends, ready to cause some destruction.

Isaaru lay back on the rocky ground of Zanarkand, shoving a monkey aside as he did so. The damn things were multiplying at a ridiculous rate these days; causing the tourist business he had started with an Al Bhed named Cid to go bankrupt. No-one wanted to go to a location in which all their Gil would be stolen by flea-ridden pests, no matter how historically important it was.

It was yet another thing to add to his long line of failures, Isaaru thought. Now, once again, he found himself wondering what he was supposed to do with the rest of his life.

He had contemplated staying in Zanarkand to make up for the destruction that had been caused to the famous ruins from the tourist venture. He could stop other people from destroying the site.

Yet what was there here to protect but memories and old broken buildings? Besides, the monkeys would discourage anyone from staying for too long.

"I wonder what I'm supposed to be protecting," Isaaru said to the night sky.

Memories of his time in Zanarkand as a Summoner rather than tour-guide flashed across his mind, and he grimaced. He remembered how it had felt when he was told what sacrifice was truly needed to defeat Sin. One of his guardians would have to lay down their life in order to call forth the final aeon. His own life he would gladly give, but he would not sacrifice the life of one of his brothers. It was then he had given up on his pilgrimage.

Yes, just one more failure; just one more time when he had been forced to give up.

A monkey crawled onto his chest, and he shoved it off in annoyance.

What was he supposed to do with himself now that these accursed pests had driven everyone from Zanarkand?

He remembered a conversation he had with Lady Yuna only the day before. Using the commspheres to speak with someone so far away still felt strange to him, and Isaaru thought that maybe it would forever. In fact, that was how his conversation with Yuna had begun.

"Maroda often laughs at me and says I'm behind the times," he had said about his younger brother.

"We talked to Maroda using one of these. He's in Bevelle."

The news had surprised Isaaru. Then again, Maroda did seem to be travelling all over the place with his work with the Youth League lately. Still Bevelle, home to New Yevon, the Youth Leagues enemies, seemed like a strange place for Maroda to be spending his time.

"Bevelle? Really?" Isaaru tried not to think of the many bad memories he had associated with the place. "How is Bevelle these days?"

"It's not looking too good. They can't find anyone to lead in place of Baralai."

Isaaru had heard about the leader of New Yevon's mysterious disappearance. It had apparently caused chaos in the capital.

"I wouldn't be surprised if they tried to push some of their problems onto you, High Summoner," Isaaru commented. Yuna was known for her ability to take charge and fix problems, whatever that involved.

"Well, what would they expect me to do?" Yuna protested.

Yuna couldn't do anything? It had to be a pretty drastic state of affairs if the legendary High Summoner couldn't think of anything.

"I had no idea things had gotten so bad," Isaaru commented. "Thank you for telling me."

With that Yuna had bidden him farewell, and gone off to attend to another one of Spira's many problems.

Maybe, just maybe, he could find his purpose in the chaotic Bevelle. He couldn't just leave Zanarkand unprotected though.

Isaaru got to his feet. He had reached a decision. He hoped that this time it was the right one.

Beclem's first bullet hit a wolf-like fiend before it had time to react. A few more bullets saw the wolf lying on the floor. This had alerted the other fiends to his presence, and they all began moving towards him at once.

Beclem had just enough time to reload before a large bird moved to swoop him, and he ducked under it, and then began shooting at it from behind. It realised its mistake soon enough, and moved to attack Beclem again at the same time as a strong horned fiend. Beclem pointed one rifle in each direction and scowled. Aiming at two creatures at one was difficult, but if he didn't then they would probably attack him.

He fired both guns in quick succession. The bird soon dropped, but his other gun ran out of bullets, and the horned creature was on top of him before he could reload. He jumped over the creature as it moved to attack him, reloading and turning in midair so that he could fire several bullets into the creature's hide.

It let out an almighty roar, before falling to the ground and transforming into a scattering of pyreflies.

Beclem didn't notice that a short and heavy fiend known as a helm had snuck up on him until it attacked him from behind, slamming into his back with a crunch that Beclem knew would cause him pain tomorrow.

He whirled around and began shooting at the helm's weak spot; it's stomach. The power of the bullets at this range made the helm fall back slightly every time it was shot. Beclem checked around him while the helm was down, and sure enough, discovered that another wolf was making its way towards him.

A few more shots saw both the helm and the wolf turn into nothing more than pyreflies, but a large group of fiends were charging towards Beclem and showing no signs of stopping until they had torn him apart.

Beclem took a few steps back, and reached into his pocket for the rarest and most powerful ammunition he possessed. He took a couple of seconds to reload and then focused on the horned fiend that was closest to him.

He jumped over the fiend before it knew what was happening, and fired his pistol.

An enormous explosion rocked the area, and all the fiends that had surrounded Beclem were no more.

Zanarkand had never been an entirely safe place. Even now, when it was only ruins and monkeys, the fiends were far too powerful for tourists to wander around by themselves, which was why Isaaru had been needed in the first place.

It had been an easy enough decision to close the main dome of Zanarkand. It would mean that the Chamber of the Fayth, the main reason for Zanarkand's importance as the final destination of Summoners, would be protected from tourists for ever. Closing it by himself however, was easier said than done.

Isaaru suddenly found that his path was blocked by an enormous armoured fiend that had come to be known as an Ironside. It had very few weak points, and could withstand most physical attacks. It was also incredibly strong.

This would not be easy. Isaaru stood fast, and waited for the fiend to make its move.

The Ironside attacked faster than appeared possible for its size, swinging around one enormous leg in an attempt to flatten Isaaru. Isaaru jumped out of the way just in time. He concentrated for a couple of seconds, calling upon his own power and magic to surround himself with a shield against the fiend's attacks.

The Ironside attacked again, and this time Isaaru didn't manage to get completely out of its way, the large limb knocking him to the floor. If it wasn't for Isaaru's shield, he was sure he would have been severely injured.

A third attack soon came, but Isaaru dodged this one, and retaliated, striking the Ironside's large stomach. The fiend growled at him, and began to rock backwards and forwards in preparation, Isaaru knew from experience to attempt to jump on top of him in a body slam that would undoubtedly kill him.

He sprang out of the way, and once more attacked the creature while he had the opportunity, striking it in the back of the head.

The Ironside got to its feet again, and once more attempted to squash Isaaru with one of its limbs, successfully striking him this time. Isaaru forced himself to get back up, even though the pain was excruciating. It felt as though one of his arms had been broken in the attack.

He channelled magic again, using it to partially heal his wounds. He felt the bones in his arms slowly slipping back into place, and breathed a sigh of relief.

The creature growled at Isaaru once again, and moved its two small arms to its chest, pulling apart the outer layer of rock hard skin to reveal soft flesh beneath. Isaaru grinned at this gruesome display. The Ironside was going to attempt to shoot out an enormous burst of energy and destroy the ex-Summoner in one swift blow, but in doing so, it left its soft stomach open to attack.

Isaaru charged at the beast, and struck it twice with his staff in quick succession. The creature let out a deep scream, and fell forward, almost crushing Isaaru beneath its enormous weight.

The Ironside's body evaporated; a handful of pyreflies flying away from where the body used to be. The phenomenon never ceased to amaze Isaaru, and he watched as one of the pyreflies flew up through the ruins and into the night sky.

He shook himself out of his reverie, and walked the rest of the way towards the dome entrance. It would be impossible to make a physical boundary by himself; at least, it would be impossible to make one that would be at all effective, but a magical boundary was well within his talents.

He twirled his staff in front of him a couple of times, and concentrated on letting his magic flow through him and the staff. A few words were muttered under his breath, and soon a glowing blue glyph appeared in the air in front of him.

He reached out, and his hand met with an invisible boundary. That was that job taken care of.

And now, to travel to Bevelle. He hoped that someone nearby would have a chocobo handy, otherwise it was going to be a long walk.

Beclem wiped some blood off his arm, annoyed because he knew that it could only be his own. Fiends did not bleed. Sure enough, beneath the red liquid was a long, deep gash in his skin. He frowned at this. He knew he could do better. He had been careless enough to be injured, and he hadn't killed nearly as many fiends as he had hoped he would have.

At least it had gotten rid of some of his frustration. At least he no longer felt like killing something. Right now, all he wanted was to wash off this blood, and have a nice long rest before he left for headquarters later that afternoon.

He pulled off the helmet he wore to allow himself some fresh air. The wound on his forehead from the fight that had killed Chappu had left a pale scar just above his eyebrow, but it was only small, especially when compared to the emotional scarring, although he would never admit this to anyone.

He still hadn't cried for Chappu. He had screamed, he had become violent or frustrated, but he found that most of his emotions had become bottled up ever since that day. Chappu's death had been, he reflected, the worst possible punishment Yevon could have found for his transgressions; far worse than his own death would have been.

He didn't know why he had kept Chappu's helmet. Was it simply because he needed a new one after his own had been destroyed, or had he kept it to remember Chappu by? Whatever the reason, the only time he removed it these days was when he slept. No-one else knew of the scar on his forehead.

He placed the helmet back on his head as he approached the village, hiding his features once again. Wakka rushed up to meet him as soon as he entered the village; a wide smile firmly placed on his face. For no more than a second, Beclem was reminded of Chappu, but then he shook the thought away.

"It's a boy ya!" Wakka announced. "I'm a father now, and I've got a little boy!"

So, Lulu had finished giving birth while he had been gone. Beclem smiled; the closest thing he would give Wakka to a congratulations.

"Have you thought of a name for him yet?" Beclem asked.

Wakka looked sheepish for a bit, and Beclem knew that the Besaid Islander still had not thought of a name for his child. He'd been attempting to think of one for a while now apparently, and yet the child had been born and the father still hadn't chosen a name for him.

"I just can't choose you know?" Wakka told Beclem. "What if I give him the wrong name and he doesn't like it?"

"Then he'll just have to learn to live with it," Beclem said, perhaps just a little too bitterly. "Excuse me; I have to finish packing my bags before I leave this afternoon."

He shoved past Wakka and headed towards the tent in which he was staying. He froze for a moment as he caught sight of the sphere Chappu had given to him.

It was lucky for Isaaru that an airship had happened to be passing Mt. Gagazet just as he had begun to climb it. They had met on a large plateau near the top, and the owners were nice enough to give Isaaru a lift to the capital.

As soon as he exited the airship Isaaru found that he was surrounded by a crowd of priests and citizens, some of whom he recognised, but most of whom he was sure he had never met before.

They all seemed to know who he was though, and before his feet had even touched the floor, he had been offered a temporary leadership at least three times.

"Please Lord Isaaru," a middle-aged priest that had introduced himself as Dorian said. "If you could do anything to help us it would be greatly appreciated. Without our leader Baralai we are completely lost."

"You want me to lead?" Isaaru asked, completely dumbfounded by Bevelle's response.

"You are an ex-Summoner," Dorian answered, as though this were the only quality that was needed in a potential leader.

"Brother!" someone screamed out from the back of the crowd. Isaaru looked over a few dozen heads to discover the older of his two younger brothers, Maroda, waving to him from the back.

"Excuse me," Isaaru said, shoving through the crowd of people.

"Brother!" Maroda said again, capturing Isaaru in an enthusiastic bear hug as soon as he was within range. "It's been far too long! What are you doing here?"

"I heard that there was some trouble here."

"That's an understatement," Maroda laughed. "These people are absolutely desperate for someone to lead them."

"I noticed," Isaaru commented, as one woman tugged at his sleeve.

"Maroda," a voice called from about waist height. "What's going on?"

A child found his way to Maroda's side. The boy's face lit up as soon as he saw Isaaru.

"'Saaru!" he called, wrapping Isaaru in an even tighter hug than Maroda had.

"Hello Pacce," Isaaru greeted his youngest brother. "Have you been behaving yourself?"

"Yeap!" Pacce responded immediately.

"He's started his own group of Sphere Hunters," Maroda elaborated. "They call themselves the Kinderguardians."

"Is that so?" Isaaru asked, ruffling Pacce's hair.

"Yeah, and I've gotta go tell them what to do now, all right?"

Pacce was gone before Isaaru could respond. He could be heard barking orders at the other Kinderguardians within a few seconds.

"All right Kinderguardians! My brother's back in the city, so we've gotta protect it now! Move out!"

"He's a good leader," Isaaru commented with a smile as he watched the youngest of the three brothers walk off, surrounded by a small group of children.

"Lord Isaaru," Dorian said, attempting to catch the ex-Summoner's attention once more. "Will you at least think about leading the rest of us? Everyone would surely listen to any command you were to make."

Isaaru watched his youngest brother run around for a little while as he took a couple of moments to think the question through.

Was this where he would find his purpose? Would he be the right leader for Bevelle? There was only one way to find out.

"I accept your offer," he told Dorian.