Braska's Story

They'd been best friends since they were six, since the first day of temple school. Braska was the only son of an important Lord in Bevelle and a spoiled brat; Auron was the harbormaster's son and much too street wise for his age. The reason for the fight they had was lost in the mist of time, as well as the name of the victor, but it left them with a lasting respect for each other and they were inseparable from then on. Auron was determined to go on this adventure, only the latest of many they had shared, so Braska would just have to get used to the idea.

As children their favorite game had been playing Crusader, defeating imaginary sin spawn and fiends during every free moment they had together; it was no surprise that they ran away when they were eighteen to become Crusaders.

Sin returned when they were twenty-one, and becoming a Summoner was all Braska talked about from then on. Auron said he would be his Guardian on the Journey, so they resigned their positions with the Crusaders and Braska began the arduous process of becoming a Summoner, making it as far as the temples at Kilika and Djose and gaining both those aeons, then the Calm was brought by Summoner Yocun…

Braska returned to the temple, determined to become a priest, in order to help people. Auron returned with him and took a position with the temple guards…now their lives would change again.

Footsteps echoed down the stone floored hallway of the temple housing wing, and when the knock on his cell door came, Braska knew who it would be without looking up. "Come in Auron," he answered as he carefully turned a page on the book he was studying.

"What are you up to now?" Auron asked as he entered the small room. "I just heard you are going to Bikanel, as an Ambassador to the Al Bhed no less?" He had just heard the news of Braska's appointment, it had been a surprise, but his first assignment was a bigger one, and Auron thought it would soon make both their lives very interesting.

"Yes. I was notified of the appointment today," Braska replied calmly with a slight smile, without looking up from his book, as he reached across the small table to pull a notebook closer, and then wrote quickly.

Auron raised his eyebrows in surprise. "I thought the Maesters were against the Al Bhed!"

"Politics," Braska explained, "sometimes makes strange bedfellows…" He shook his head as he handed Auron the letter explaining his first assignment as a diplomat to the Al Bhed, wondering what he was getting himself into. "Some of the Maesters fought furiously to keep from having to climb into this particular bed."

Fought furiously, Braska thought, was an understatement, remembering the meetings he'd had to sit through as an aide to Maester Chuham; there had been many raised voices, and some had nearly ended in fist fights. "Several of the Maesters are violently against it, but these are changing times and the majority of Council has finally decided it is best for Spira if all the races are united - or at least have established open communications."

"I thought the Al Bhed were nomads with no central authority to negotiate with," Auron stated, "and the people are scattered around Spira. Who are you supposed to be working with? Even worse, most people hate them because they use machina, so you're not going to be very popular once word gets out about this."

"It gets worse…," Braska sighed. "Most of the Al Bhed are going to be resistant to the idea of joining forces with the Temple of Yevon…and many of the follower's of Yevon are unwilling to welcome the machina using Al Bhed, so even if I can get an agreement of some sort there's no guarantee the Maesters will accept it."

"Well, I'm going with you! You'll need a Guardian among those heathens!" Auron announced as he pulled up a chair and sat down across from Braska. "So how are you going to pull this off with me assigned as Captain of the Temple Guard?" Auron asked curiously as he lifted a loose paper off the table and examined it.

Braska looked up from the Al Bhed Primer he was studying and said, "Already taken care of. " He chuckled at Auron's look of surprise. "A diplomat will need protection while away from Bevelle, and you are the man for the job. I figured you would want to go so I petitioned Maester Mica for your assignment."

A smile curved Auron's lips as he gazed over at his friend. "Brow beat him until he gave in you mean. What about your studies for the priesthood?" he asked, raising one eyebrow.

With a wry smile in return, Braska replied, "All the instructors recommended me for this – their exact words were: 'Why did you choose the priesthood? You should go into Law or Politics.' Maester Mica felt I would better serve the Temple as a diplomat instead of a priest."

Auron started laughing, "Maybe you're being sent as a punishment… the Al Bhed's!" Braska grinned back devilishly. "So what is it we are supposed to get out of an alliance with these heathens?"

"The Maesters feel that Sin needs to be destroyed for good, and that there may be a way with some of the machina that the Al Bhed have restored," Braska related, "I will be the liaison between the Al Bhed and the Temple while we search for the solution – I hope to be able to help in some small way." He winced as Auron growled and slapped one hand on the table in sudden anger.

"Machina!" Auron spat out, leaning forward to smack his hand on the table again. "That goes against all of Yevon's teachings. If I hadn't known you this long I would call you a heretic!" He was only half kidding, his views on the matter were much stricter than Braska's. He had faced a certain amount of ridicule in the guard when he refused to carry a rifle, until he had shown his deadly skill with a sword.

Shaking his head, Braska replied evenly, "If that was what the teachings said, even the machines used to run the stadium at Luca would be called an Abomination and be destroyed! Look around, we use machina everyday! What makes this machina bad and that one good - just because the Church approves it?" Braska continued reasonably, leaning closer to Auron to press his convictions. "This is one of the reasons they chose me. I have an open mind." He paused at Auron's skeptical expression and raised eyebrow. "My questioning the Teachings on everything is driving the instructors to spit!" he admitted sheepishly. "I just feel that if you are going to be a priest you should thoroughly understand the Teachings. Knowing the what, when, where and how is one thing, but when you know the Why, then you are prepared to handle any situation."

Auron stood up with a sigh and changed the subject, recognizing this mood all too well... "You want a drink?" he asked, going to Braska's tiny kitchen area to rummage through the cupboard for glasses and a bottle of the wine Braska kept for him.

"Just water, please." Braska responded wearily, sitting back in his chair and stretching his tight shoulders. How long had he been sitting? It must have been hours already, and he was making little progress in learning to speak Al Bhed.

"You can have something stronger now that you are no longer studying to become a priest." Auron pressed, peering back at his friend.

Braska turned toward Auron in his chair, hooking his arm over the back of it, "After seeing what it has done to my father, I don't think I need to start down that path."

Auron returned with a glass of water and handed it to Braska. "Have you told him yet?" he asked as he reclaimed his seat, taking it and turning it around to straddle it, resting his arms on the back. Lifting his own glass to his lips, he took a swallow.

The ex-priest lowered his eyes, staring into the glass- in which he could see his faint reflection, "No, I'll see him tomorrow. I called today and his nurse says he is not long for this world."

"Sorry. The loss of your mother and sister was hard on him." Auron fell silent for a moment, then continued, "I know when my father passed to the Farplane it hit my mom hard." Auron sank into the memory and fell silent again.

"His turning to the bottle as a form of escape is what has really destroyed him," Braska replied, "He drinks to forget, but the alcohol only intensifies his depression. He thinks that I don't feel any sense of loss for them." Braska took a few swallows from his glass and turned back to the primer once again.

"You want me to go with you?" Auron offered quietly.

Braska looked up, then shook his head, "No, you'll need to get ready to go too - we leave the day after tomorrow and you'll need to brief your replacement. Besides you will want to tell your mother that you will be going away for awhile." He gave a knowing smile, "I've made arrangements for the church to keep an eye on her and help out discreetly. I know she would refuse any direct assistance."

Nodding, Auron swirled the last of the wine in his glass and finished it off, "Thanks, that will free my mind to concentrate on your protection." Standing, he turned his chair back around, placed his glass in the sink and headed out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow for supper." Braska waved absently, and set his water glass on the desk, it was quickly forgotten as he turned his full attention back to his studies.

Early the next morning, Braska walked up the three steps from the street and rang the bell beside the ornate wooden door of his ancestral home, hearing the chimes resound faintly inside. It had been a long while since he'd visited, and he was dreading the pain it would dredge up, even though his sense of duty forced him to come here. He ran his fingers over the faint scars the heavy door still bore, evidence of a magnificent battle he and Auron had fought and won against the greatest of all Fiends when they were ten, during a much happier time of his life - the resultant whipping he'd received still sharp his memories to this day, even though it had been nearly fifteen years ago.

The elderly butler finally opened the door and Braska stepped through. The familiar white-marble floor echoed his footsteps as he walked forward, waiting for the butler to close the unwieldy door; the whole place echoed with old memories. Although the family fortune had provided for the upkeep of the house and paid the staff after his father's breakdown, the only rooms in use now were his father's bedroom and the kitchen, and the only staff the butler and a full time nurse. A glance through the doors to the left and right of the foyer gave Braska a view of his older sister's music room, sheet music still scattered on the floor around the dust covered piano, and the sitting room with his mother's easel still set up in front of the window, as if she would return momentarily and finish the half done painting. Nothing had been changed since their death, only shrouded in white dust-cloths; the doors to the unused rooms left open only for proper ventilation. The house lacked the life and character it had once had, it was missing the warmth of the family who had once lived here - it was as if the house had died when his family had, and now it was just a tomb for an old man who hadn't realized he had died with them.

Braska sighed as the butler shuffled past, and shook himself out of the depression the view had caused. The old man escorted him up the stairs at the end of the foyer, and onwards around the balcony to his father's room - though he knew the way Braska was somehow glad of the company. Pausing at the door, Braska took a deep breath to prepare for the inevitable confrontation, then stepped through the door the butler held open.

"Why are you here?" a voice cracking with age demanded garrulously. The sound hit Braska like a whip as he crossed the room to take his customary seat in the chair beside the four-posted bed.

Braska paused a moment before answering to look at the familiar scroll work on the tall head board; how many times had he been spanked for jumping on it? He quickly hid a sad smile, lest his father take it wrong. "I just wanted to see how you were," he said soothingly.

"Not likely," Lord Yureth snorted. "You're up to something, I can tell. What kind of crazy idea you and that Auron boy got now?" the old man insisted bitterly. "You and that boy are always in trouble!" He glared at Braska when he didn't immediately answer and opened his mouth for another tirade.

"That is what I came to see you about." Braska rushed to say before his father could interrupt, then took the plunge and finished, "The Maesters Council needs an ambassador to the Al Bhed and I have been selected. Auron and I will be leaving tomorrow for Bikanel." He steeled himself for the reaction.

"What kind of craziness is this! You can't go! I forbid it!" Lord Yureth slapped the covers angrily with one shriveled hand. "It sounds like another one of those wild schemes! You and that Auron never finish what you start. First you ran off to be a Crusader, then you quit to be a Summoner! I thought that you would finally do something for me to be proud of, but then you quit that to become a priest!" With each statement he got more excited until his shriveled face had turned bright red with rage. The frail old man flailed in the bed, tangling one spindly arm in the sheets as he attempted to get close enough to cuff his son across the ear. "Bah! Priest! When your mother and sister were dying with the fever, all they did was stand around and mumble 'its Yevon's will'!" Furiously Lord Yureth fought the offending covers, finally catching the bell for his nurse with the sleeve of his bed gown, knocking it off the side table to the floor. It sounded unnaturally loud in the room - a calm clear tone amidst the madness.

Predictably, the nurse appeared in the doorway, and the lord was quick to take advantage of the situation, "Bring me my tonic, woman!" Yureth demanded.

Shaking her head, the stout woman replied calmly as she crossed the room to untangle the sheet and pull the blankets straight, "You are not allowed any alcohol my Lord. Your liver can't take it. And you can stop this thrashing right now or I'll bring a sedative."

"Calm down father." Braska sighed, leaning down to retrieve the bell and place it back on the table. "Calm down," Braska requested again in a firmer voice, holding onto his patience. He looked over as the butler sidled into the room, ready to help if needed.

Still furious as ever, Yureth bellowed at the nurse, "You- get out! I'll do what I damn well please." Lord Yureth scowled at them all when no-one moved, "I'll fire the lot of you! I'm still the lord of this house!" His eyes settled on Braska, a bright gleam of madness burning within them. "Get out…," he ordered Braska again. "I don't care where you go, or what you do. You'll quit this and be back with your hand out, once you find out it's not a stroll through the flowers. Get out! Get out! GET OUT!" The old man stopped yelling, gasping for a moment as he tried to catch his breath and wiped his lips with one shaking hand. "Get out! You're just like your mother: your mind changing with the wind. She and your sister are dead because of the Al Bhed. Have you forgotten – they had to go for a ride on that machina ship! And what did it lead too? I'll tell you! Six weeks of watching them waste away! Not able to keep anything in their stomachs until they passed to the Farplane! Not even recognizing their own family! That's what they got for it!" Spit flecked Yureth's once-strong lips, his yellowed eyes wild. He had gone as pale as the sheets he lay in now, all except the large liver spots dotting his sunken cheeks and nearly transparent flesh.

"No one knew that Sin would attack, father. The Al Bhed Captain fled the encounter because of the civilians on board, but they were all exposed to Sin's toxins…" Braska tried to explain yet again but gave up with a sigh, knowing it was no use. He looked around the luxurious room that had become a shrine to his mother and sister; pictures shared the dresser tops with movie sphere's; perfume bottles sat beside a vase full of withered flowers; his mother's favorite dress hung over a chair, her shoes set neatly on the floor in front of it - left exactly as they had been the day of the boat ride... It was no wonder his father was in this state, since he immersed himself in his pain.

"I'll write, father," Braska promised sadly, heart sinking and a cold lump forming in the pit of his stomach as he realized he would probably never see his father alive again.

"Get out! You can't hurt me anymore! I have no son! Get out!" Yureth raged, and regretfully, Braska got to his feet. The nurse rushed past him with the threatened sedative, pushing the young man aside with a mumbled request that he leave. Braska hadn't really heard what she'd said, but understood well enough.

Braska heard the ornate bell strike the bedroom floor again as he closed the door on his father's rage. With a final GET OUT ringing in his ears he choked down tears and headed for the stairs. Realization crept in that the man who had been his father was no more, and that he had to accept it. Possessed by the demons of the past and the drugs he consumed to fill the void or drown the pain of it, Braska's father was beyond all recovery.

Auron finally caught up with Braska latein theday at the Arakia, a little restaurant just outside of the temple, frequented by priests who didn't want to cook for themselves or endure the cafeteria meals. It was an inexpensive place, done up in a motif reminiscent of Kilika, serving Kilikanese cuisine- which was to say mostly fish and other ocean products. Auron knew that genuine Kilikanese food wasn't as spicy, in fact hardly spiced at all; still he and Braska enjoyed eating there just the same. Taking their usual table in the open-air court behind the restaurant, they picked up their menus out of habit, as the waitress went for their drinks. The usual supper crowd had started filtering in and the background noise became a dull roar.

It was Auron who broke the silence. "You're using the menu as a shield. I know you've memorized the contents front to back." Auron slid his own menu to the side and quirked his brows. "I take it your visit with Lord Yureth did not go well?"

"Does it show that much?" Braska asked, as he too put away his menu. He sighed and put his face in his hands for a moment before raking his hands through his hair.

"That bad," Auron said with a sigh and looked hard at his friend. "You may hide yourself behind a mask from everyone else, but you forget I have known you for most of our lives."

Fiddling with his fork, Braska stared down at it as he spoke, "He's worse every time I see him. This time he threw me out." To Braska's relief the waitress approached with the drinks, which gave him the opportunity to collect his thoughts on the subject and check the hold he had on his emotions. "I'll have the special- one tab tonight. What will it be, Auron?"

"I take it you're on an expense account from the temple?" Auron waited for the nod from Braska, and then ordered his usual, with extra shrimp, and a bottle of wine.

Braska recounted his visit with his father while they waited for their meal, and Auron remained silent, letting his friend talk it out. He'd always been a good listener, Braska thought, and it was uncanny how he was always attuned to what was happening around him, as well as hearing what was not being said. This was yet another reason Braska wanted Auron with him.

Their meals arrived and they ate in contemplative silence. As they finished, Braska wiped his hands on the napkin and asked, "So, how is your mother?"

Auron leaned back in his seat with a small smile, "Hard as ever. I had lunch with her today and told her I would be going out of town on temple business for awhile, and said as a courtesy the church would check in on her." Auron started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" Braska asked, still in a dour mood.

"Just remembering the ear-full she gave me," Auron chuckled. "She threw her dishtowel at my head and threatened me with a spatula!"

This brought an unexpected laugh from Braska, easily imagining the encounter. "She is anchored in her independence isn't she?" he replied as his laughter subsided.

"Well, I requested that she be cordial to them- and not kill any of them, for my sake at least. And said that I would write her when I could," Auron belched behind his hand and excused himself. "Besides, Machel will look in from time to time."

Reminded, Braska inquired, "How is your brother?"

Leaning forward and crossing his arms on the table, Auron informed Braska that Machel and Berta were well and added, "My nephew is growing like a weed and already walking at eight months."

"They start walking that young? I didn't know that." Braska remarked with a look of surprise. The bill arrived and Braska paid, taking time to write the details of the meal in a little notebook the temple had provided him for the trip. Seeing the temple seal reminded Auron of the letter Maester Chuham had asked him to deliver, so he pulled it from his coat pocket and handed it across the table with a small flourish and a teasing smile.

"Maester Chuham said you left the temple too quickly this morning, you missed your mail," Auron explained, watching as Braska examined the official letter curiously.

Braska broke the seal and read quietly, and then gave a little grunt of amusement. Looking up, he met Auron's eyes. "They have named me a Lord."

"Not surprising - the duties of an ambassador demand the rank and authority to go with them," Auron said proudly, rising from his chair and giving his friend the traditional bow of the Yevon temple. "Let me be the first to congratulate you Lord Braska,"

"Wait," Braska said, holding up his hand to settle his friend. "There is more…the Council wants us to go to Baaj instead of Bikanel. Crusader intelligence agents say that the Al Bhed are pulling some interesting things from the sea floor and Maester Mica wants us to take a look. It doesn't go into details, but Maester Chuham says I will receive a briefing package in the morning before we board the ship. It's the S.S. Litanis, at dock 4, slip 29 -and we need to be there at eight o'clock – someone will be meeting us to answer any questions we might have."

"Isn't there a new fayth at Baaj?" Auron reached out to catch Braska's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Come on, we need to finish packing – if I know you, you've not even started."

Braska sighed and nodded. "Maester Mica wants me to take a look at the new fayth as long as I'm there in the area. There've been reports of some problems…" he paused to wait for several customers to pass then followed Auron out of the restaurant. "Did you know I met her once?"

"Met who?" Auron asked, looking curiously at Braska.

"The new fayth – her name is…or was…Lady Reena," Braska explained, "I met her when I was much younger, the year my sister died. There was a party celebrating the birth of a son to some Lord, I forget exactly who, and I was allowed to attend." He reached out to stop Auron for a moment, waiting as a group of men pushed past down the street. "Lady Reena was a year younger than my sister, so that makes her ten years older than us? Anyway, she was kind to me and stood up for me when I got into a fight and bloodied the nose of another guest – the brat was teasing a little girl and didn't like it when I told him to stop. Lady Reena told the truth about the fight and got the bully punished, a kindness I have never forgotten. She seemed so sad, and for a long time I wondered why, but then I overheard my sister talking with her friends about it; Reena's father had forced her to marry Jiskal, the leader of the Guado. The marriage was for 'politics' and she didn't really love him, she only obeyed her father's order to marry, to advance his business interests with the Guado."

Auron frowned slightly and turned to look at Braska. "Wasn't there some sort of scandal about that?"

"Not a scandal as such, but there was a lot of resistance to the marriage from both sides, and there was a lot of talk when they had a child, a boy they named Seymour," Braska continued to explain as they walked. "He's here at the temple now." The half Guado child was seldom spoken of, but he'd recently come to live at the temple school at Bevelle after the recent mysterious death of his mother. Braska had seen the child around the temple, and thought him odd; always sitting alone, or reading a history much too advanced for his age…he'd spoken with the boy once or twice, and had always felt uncomfortable with him, for no reason he could pin down. "I don't know much about the circumstances, but there's supposed to be something odd about the new fayth. I don't know why Maester Mica wants me to go to Baaj Temple though, because I know of at least two other Summoners who've visited there recently."

"That is strange," Auron rubbed his chin thoughtfully, "I wonder what's really going on…."