"Quenten?" Braska called as he came through the doorway. "Are you busy today?"
"Hello, Braska! I sure didn't expect to hear from you this quickly, not that it's a bad thing, but what do you need?" The stocky grey haired man rose from his comfortable chair with a wide grin and reached out to clasp Braska's forearm in greeting. "Auron's here too!" Quenten exclaimed as the older man's daughter showed them both into the sitting room. His smile dimmed as he studied them. "You both look so serious…it's got to be about Sin then." He looked at Braska, then back at Auron and sighed wearily, sitting back down and gesturing them to take seats as well. "Let me guess, you're going back on pilgrimage? I suspected you might when I heard about your wife." The mage looked at Auron, and frowned. "You're going with him?"
Braska looked over at Auron with a slight frown and nodded. Auron returned the look, with a stubborn expression on his face.
"I need to improve my magic skills, Quenten. Auron thinks I'm too out of shape to protect myself otherwise," Braska scowled as Auron nodded agreeably and slouched back in his chair with a smirk, stretching his legs out in front of himself and crossing them casually at the ankle.
"How long do you have before you leave?" Quenten picked up his cup of tea from the tiny end table beside his comfortable chair and tipped it up to drink the last swallow before continuing. "As I remember, you weren't all that good with the spells when you were with the Crusaders…so, have you gotten any better since?"
Braska shrugged. "I won't be ready to leave until the end of the month at the earliest. I have to wait for replies to some letters I sent to Luca and the Hypello's at Moonflow, so I have about three weeks, four is more likely. Maybe a while after that…I'm also waiting for a…," he hesitated, not sure how to explain about the fayth's 'champion', or even if he should, but Auron finished for him.
"We're waiting for another Guardian to join us, and we're not sure when he's coming," Auron completed the explanation and looked at Braska, daring him to challenge his claim as a Guardian.
Braska's personal journal, Utzuki, day 14:
I have begun magic lessons with Quenten, an old Black mage friend from the Crusaders. The best I can say about them is…they are keeping me busy while I wait for Bahamut's champion to arrive. I have never been really proficient with spell casting, but I had hoped I would get better with more practice. It is so frustrating…I know what I want to do, but the power just seems to slide away from me when I cast. Our last practice was a total disaster. Quenten is going to look through some of his books to see if he can figure out what's wrong. I don't understand why it came so easily on the barge after the giant fiend attacked, and I didn't have a problem healing Machel either. I felt the energy channel through me, but now I can only find a thread of the power I felt and I can't even cast a fire spell strong enough to light a camp fire.
Braska's personal journal, Utzuki, day 16:
I went by Quenten's house again this morning. He says that according to his books I have some sort of blockage of my mage powers. I don't understand even half of his explanation, but the effect is that I am not going to be able to cast the stronger spells until I can overcome it. He thinks it's a mental block, something I have to come to terms with before the power will flow. I guess that explains why I couldn't cast sometimes, and why it was so hard to make the spells work. What am I going to do if I can't figure it out?
"Braska, come on…you haven't eaten all day, and its well past lunch," Auron said coaxingly, trying to get his friend to leave the port office. Braska was sitting at his desk, his head in his hands, not responding. "Will you at least tell me what the matter is?"
"I got a letter today from Aja…," Braska paused, unable to continue, his voice roughened by tears although his face was dry.
"Is Cid doing alright?" Auron interrupted in a worried voice. "It wasn't bad news was it?"
"Yes, I'm afraid it was bad news...Ohani went into premature labor when she heard about Leyona…she hemorrhaged." Braska spoke through his hands, the words only slightly muffled so Auron could clearly hear the pain in his voice. "They were unable to stop the bleeding, and the baby was too immature to survive." Braska reached out to slide the letter towards Auron then put his hand back over his face. "They are both gone…."
"Oh Yevon…," Auron moaned, sitting down heavily in a chair and rubbing his eyes before he started reading the letter. "How is Cid handling it?"
"Not well at all…Aja can't get Cid to even talk to him," Braska dropped his hands to the desk and turned finally to look up at Auron with a bleak expression on his face. "He says Cid has withdrawn from everyone and sits in his room. I don't know what to say to him now." Braska stood and turned to look out the window at the busy street outside, a wave of weariness making him slump. "I will try to write a letter, but I know that nothing I could possibly say will ease the pain he feels…," Braska sighed and rubbed his reddened eyes, then turned back to look at Auron. "I know exactly how Cid feels…but I don't think telling him that will help much."
"Well, not eating isn't going to help." Auron stood suddenly and reached out to grab one of Braska's hands, pulling him gently towards the door. "Come on, you still have to eat something. You're loosing weight and you're going to make yourself sick." Braska sighed and shook his head but allowed himself to be led out of the office.
The small restaurant was on a side street several blocks from the port, its cobbled surface only wide enough for two carts to pass. Not being a main thoroughfare, but still located in the center of the business district, it had become the home of several nicer restaurants and a few up scale pubs catering to the mid-level working class. This one specialized in food in the style of the Calm Lands, and served some extremely hot curries.
Braska and Auron were sitting at a small table set under a colorful awning, finishing an early evening meal. Auron was sipping a glass of wine, watching Braska play with his food, pushing it around the plate instead of eating it, apparently lost in thought.
"I happen to know that is very good, and I know you like it, so eat!" Auron sighed, and nudged Braska's arm to get his attention. "It's not going to go away spontaneously; you might as well eat it." Braska looked up at him and scowled, but nodded finally and put a bite in his mouth, chewing slowly.
An unexpected turmoil on the street came as a surprise. Usually the only problems in this area were caused by late night customers at the pubs further down the street, ones frequented by a rougher crowd. People were hurrying past, as if to get away from the disturbance.
"What's happening down there?" Auron asked curiously, turning to look down the street towards the sudden uproar. Braska looked up and nearly choked on his half chewed mouthful. The fayth was standing on the steps of the building across the street, watching the passerby's and listening to their conversations with an intent expression. He turned his head to look at Braska, and time seemed to stop as everything froze in place for a long moment, people stopping in mid step with their mouth's open and unmoving.
"He's here," Bahamut said softly as his eyes met Braska's, and then he faded away, movement and sound resuming suddenly. Braska dropped his fork and nearly spilled his wine in shock.
"What's the matter Braska?" Auron quickly turned to look at whatever had caught Braska's attention so abruptly, but didn't see anything unusual. "What's going on?"
"Find out what's happening, Auron," Braska ordered with a wave towards the approaching crowd as he wiped his mouth and dropped several coins onto the table and then stood, ready to leave. "This is it."
Auron raised his eyebrows in surprise and then moved to stop one of the passerby's as Braska gathered his document bag.
"What is happening friend?" Auron asked, stepping out onto the street and catching the arm of an older man in the clothes of a dock supervisor as he hurried past.
"A mad man started a brawl with the city watch and some off duty temple guards at Tocky's Pub," the dock worker said with a scowl as he gestured towards a knot of men down the street in front of the pub. "Had the nerve to say he's from Zanarkand, and then the drunken fool threw two temple guards through the front window when they objected. Went downhill from there," he added as he pointed down the street again. "There he is…whoever he is he's strong! He took on six temple guards at once and the only way they stopped him was hitting him over the head with a bar stool! I think he got half the pub into it before they took him out."
Braska and Auron looked on as three burly City guards passed, two carrying the semiconscious form of a well built man with long auburn hair, his arms draped across their shoulders, the other carrying belts with their side arms looped over his shoulder. Their prisoner's head hung down so they could not see his face, but a strange tattoo covered the man's entire chest and the clothes he wore were just as odd, of a style they could not recognize.
"Where are you taking him?" Auron asked the guards as they moved past.
"To the guard house, Sir Auron," the unencumbered guard answered respectfully, recognizing the former Captain of the temple guards. "I'm sure our Captain will want to have a word with him… if he wakes up," he said, gesturing with his chin to the blood covered mat of hair.
The guard holding up the right side stopped for a moment and shifted the man's arm across his shoulder, lifting him a bit higher as he sagged. "He caused quite a bit of damage and there are some people who are going to be pretty angry with him. We'll have to hold him for awhile, if only for his own protection."
"Just make sure he gets there," Auron warned as he stepped up to them. "It would be very unfortunate if anything should happen to this prisoner while he's enjoying your hospitality." The three nodded, understanding his warning.
"We'll be by to check on him when he wakes up…," Braska added. "I have an interest in him, so I expect he'll be treated fairly. Make sure a healer is called - I'll pay the fee."
"Yes, Lord Braska," the nearest guard answered politely, a puzzled expression on his face as he wondered what the aristocrat would want with an apparent madman. "I'll send word when he's conscious."
Braska nodded his thanks and then watched as another group of city guards moved past, several supporting ones who couldn't walk, all with bloodied cuts and bruises. He reached up and freed the clasp on his necklace, and held it in his hand to look at it. "Look Auron…," he said as he held it out towards his friend. "That's the one we've been waiting for." Indeed, there could be no mistake since the symbol on the necklace was identical to the tattoo on the man's chest.
"No…you've got to be kidding?" Auron murmured, turning to watch the procession of battered men walking past. "Please say you're kidding…." Braska shook his head and put the necklace back on and started down the street without another word. "Oh Yevon…"
Braska lay on his back on the stone bench in the back courtyard of his home listening to the water gurgle in the fountain. He gazed up at the night sky, missing the quiet times he had spent there with Leyona, sighing when he was unable to pick out many stars. "Too many lights…," he mumbled to himself as he sat up and turned to set both feet back on the ground. That was one thing he really regretted about living in the city; all the lights made it impossible to see the stars at night. He'd enjoyed the times he'd spent on the deck of a ship, or out in the hills far from the cities, just looking up at the stars, but now the thought of being in the hills with only Auron and their newly discovered companion for protection was troubling.
Auron had promised to give the man a chance, and Braska could only hope Bahamut's confidence in the man was justified. Auron was right; he was out of shape and out of practice and he would be a liability in a fight. It was one thing to decide to return to his pilgrimage, but the reality of what it entailed was sinking in now and it was...troubling. They were going to need magic, strong magic, and he didn't have it; how were they going to survive long enough to defeat Sin without the greater spells? Auron had never had much interest in learning magic, and right now he couldn't cast a healing spell to save his life…literally. On his part he'd been too impatient and restless to learn much beyond the simplest white magic spells, even though the mages said he had a strong talent for magic. They'd both concentrated on their fighting skills, and now that choice was coming back to haunt him.
The man Bahamut had sent was a total unknown. He'd proven he could fight, with his hands at least, but would he be able to fight fiends? Could he learn any spells? They hadn't even spoken to him yet…what if he refused to come with them?
"How am I going to do this?" Braska sighed wearily as he stood to return inside, his hand unconsciously reaching up to clasp the necklace at his throat.
"I will help you," a soft voice reassured the young summoner. Braska looked up suddenly and found his eyes held by those of the fayth standing on the edge of the fountain, his figure clear despite the darkness.
Braska stared into Bahamut's eyes for a long moment before he spoke. "Quenten says I'm not going to be able to use the greater spells until I break whatever block is holding me back. We're going to need them – at the very least the healing spells. Does the man you sent have mage skills?"
"No." The fayth shook his head. "I will help you, but you must stop fighting the magic," he admonished and then faded, leaving Braska staring into the darkness, wondering what he could have meant.
Braska sighed, and rubbed his eyes wearily. This was the second time today Bahamut had appeared unexpectedly, and he still wasn't used to the idea of a fayth walking around outside his chamber.
The City guards had sent word that the man with the tattoo was going to be alright, but they expected him to sleep until late morning. Tomorrow was going to be a long day, and who knew what it held in store, so Braska slowly walked back into the house to face another night without Leyona. Maybe it would all look better in the morning?
"Lord Braska, Sir Auron. The Captain would like to speak with you," the city guard requested respectfully as they entered the Guard Headquarters, and turned to lead them to the Captains office. Auron raised an eyebrow then followed Braska as he moved deeper into the large building.
"Ah, Sir Auron…interesting to find you here," a familiar voice stopped Auron short and he turned to look at Kinoc with a frown. "What brings you here, I wonder?" Kinoc continued, stepping out of an office in front of Auron, blocking his way.
"None of your business Kinoc," Auron said stiffly, attempting to step around him.
"That's Captain Kinoc," Kinoc corrected with a small smile, enjoying the situation. He'd seldom been in a position where Auron was at a disadvantage, and he was enjoying it now. "I hear you have an interest in the madman brought in last night. Might I ask what you want with him?"
Auron shrugged, and frowned at the new Captain. "You will have to take that up with Lord Braska," he answered, emphasizing his friend's title, then put his hand on Kinoc's shoulder to push him aside.
"Auron, wait," Kinoc said, not moving, but dropping the superior attitude for a moment. "I want to say that I truly regret what transpired that day in the temple. I know that there is nothing I can do to change what happened, but I want you to know I didn't order it. I could not stop Maester Kendale's orders…."
Auron looked down for a moment in thought then met Kinoc's eyes. "You need to learn how to deal with him. You are in a more difficult position than you think…and unless you work with your men, have more confidence in them and delegate some of the authority, you are going to fail and you will take them down with you."
Kinoc snorted, a sneer coming onto his face as he looked at his former commander. "I know how to deal with the Maesters. You're the one who couldn't handle the position. Oh, did you hear? I'm to marry soon…the lovely Lady Selvia?"
Auron snorted in amusement as he realized Kinoc was trying to make him jealous. "You have met the lady I presume?" He'd met her several times before her father had proposed the marriage, and had disliked her immensely. She had a whiny voice, a bad temper, and no apparent signs of intelligence. He had come to realize he'd made the right choice; no position, no matter how prestigious, was worth marrying a woman so shallow that a choice of which shoes to wear was a deep decision, one worthy of hours of contemplation.
Kinoc smirked, "A lovely woman…."
"Well, good luck then, I am afraid you're going to need it," Auron said abruptly as he pushed Kinoc to one side and continued towards the City Guard Captains' office, wanting to catch up with Braska. "Now, if you will excuse me?" He continued down the hallway and joined Braska, leaving a puzzled Kinoc behind.
"Ah, Lord Braska!" Captain Bulloc stood as Braska entered his office and bowed respectfully before gesturing Braska to a seat. He looked back up as Auron entered and nodded a greeting to his former colleague. "I understand you are interested in the prisoner we brought in last night?"
Auron nodded then decided the City Guard didn't need to know the true reason for their interest, and replied before Braska could. "Yes, I'm afraid he's is a crewman from one of Lord Braska's ships. He's not been…right…since he came in contact with Sin, but we're hoping rest and some time to heal will help."
"Yes, we'd like to pay his fines and clear whatever charges you've filed against him?" Braska quickly added, understanding Auron's reasoning. "I feel I owe him this much at least, since he was in my employ when he was injured."
Captain Bulloc frowned as he sorted through a stack of papers on his desk, finally locating the correct file and started to read. "Oh yes…let's begin with the property damage. Broken table, broken window, two chairs…no three chairs, sixteen bottles, twenty two glasses…and then we get to the injuries… two of my guards with broken ribs, two others with broken jaws, a broken arm, another broken wrist, a dislocated shoulder, one who will be with the healers for several weeks because of a head injury…three others who will be on restricted duty until they heal, and then there's the temple guards he injured," he looked up at Braska and sat back in his chair before he continued. "There's a number of charges against him; disorderly conduct, resisting arrest, assault, assault against a city guard, not to mention it turns out he didn't have the money to pay for his drunken spree."
Auron frowned and started to answer, but Braska held up a hand to stop him. "I'll pay for the healers for anyone injured, and compensate the guards for lost wages, as well as settle the property damage and whatever the fines will be, and I will also ensure it doesn't happen again."
"You'll make sure I never hear about him again?" Captain Bulloc looked up at Auron, wanting his assurance as well. Auron sighed then nodded his agreement. "Alright then, I will drop the assault charges as a personal favor to Auron, but you'll have to get the owner of Tocky's Pub to agree to your settlement. You're just lucky the temple guards were off duty or you'd have to convince Captain Kinoc to drop the charges as well. It's going to cost you…this man must be pretty important to you." He handed Braska the list of charges and claims for damage.
Braska nodded absently, looking over the list and totaling the costs. "I don't see a problem with this," he commented, standing and bowing to Captain Bulloc. "I'll transfer the funds immediately."
"Very well Lord Braska, I'll see to getting your crewman released. Come up to the front desk when you're ready to leave." Captain Bulloc stepped out of his office and motioned to one of his guards. "Please escort Lord Braska and Sir Auron to the holding cells; they've accepted custody of the mad man we brought in last night." The guard saluted his Captain and motioned Braska and Auron to follow him.
"How is he doing?" Braska asked as they followed the man deeper into the guard building. "I understand he was injured?"
"The healer was with him last night, and checked back this morning. I believe he is well, but he's still acting oddly," the guard paused as he stopped to unlock a barred door then motioned them through, locking it after him. "He is quick to anger, and has a foul mouth."
"Has he told you his name?" Braska asked.
The guard looked at him in surprise then nodded. "Jecht, Jecht the Great is what he has insisted we call him."
Auron sighed, and shook his head regretfully. "Lord Braska, the damage from Sin's toxin is worse than I expected. The poor man may never be right." The guard's eyes widened and he nodded as he understood what Auron was saying.
"That explains it then, he keeps insisting he's a famous blitz ball champion and wants us to send him back to Zanarkand," the guard sighed. "Poor man, I hope you are able to help him." He opened a second barred door and gestured at a man sprawled on the floor of a small holding cell.
"Well, here he is. He may be violent – are you sure you want him released?" The guard stood frowning down at the man with distaste.
"Yes, but I would like to speak with him in private first…," Braska motioned the guard out. "We'll call when we are ready to leave." The guard bowed respectfully then pulled the barred door closed behind him. Auron moved to make sure he had left then nodded to Braska.
Braska stood in front of the jail cell, looking down at the man on the cold stone floor. He lay on his back with a knee pulled up, one arm across his eyes.
"Who are you?" A gruff voice asked suddenly.
"You are the one they call Jecht, the man from Zanarkand, are you not?" Braska asked, looking at the tattoo on the man's muscular chest curiously. His clothes were odd, but of good quality.
"What of it?" was the rough response.
Auron stepped away from the door and snapped in irritation. "Watch your tongue, knave!"
Braska sighed as he turned his head slightly in Auron's direction, and nodded reassuringly, knowing Auron was liking this less and less.
"My apologies. I am Braska, a summoner," he paused as the man put his arm down and looked at him blankly. "I've come to take you from this place."
"Sounds sweet. What's the catch?" Jecht said as he stood up, moving to the front of the cell.
"That easy to see, was it?" Braska said with a small laugh, glad the man wasn't as mad as the guards thought him. "I soon leave on a pilgrimage...to Zanarkand."
The man frowned at Braska as he rubbed his stubble covered face. "Seriously?"
Braska nodded, "I would like you to join us. It will be a dangerous trip. Yet, if we do reach Zanarkand...," he paused and sighed, "my prayers will be answered, and you will be able to go home, I think. What say you?"
Jecht grinned, and answered without hesitation, his sour breath making Braska wince and step back. "Great, let's go!"
Braska blinked in surprise. "So quick?"
"Anything to get outta here!" Jecht grinned and thumped on the cell bars.
"Then it's settled," Braska replied with satisfaction. Auron growled under his breath and stepped closer to his friend.
"But I must protest...This drunkard a guardian?" Auron whispered to Braska. "What will everyone think?"
"Hey!" Jecht stepped back from the bars and shook a fist at Auron. "You want to step in here and say that?"
Braska sighed and put his hand on Auron's arm. "What does it matter? No one truly believes that I, a fallen summoner wed to an Al Bhed...," he paused and closed his eyes in pain, "could possibly defeat Sin. That's what they say already." Braska opened his eyes and looked at his best friend sadly. "No one expects us to succeed."
"Braska...," Auron gasped, surprised by Braska's words.
"Let's show them they're wrong," Braska added, starting to grin as he thought about the odd group they would be. "A fallen summoner, a man from Zanarkand...and a warrior monk, doomed to obscurity for refusing the hand of the Maester's daughter." He started laughing as the absurdity hit him. "What delightful irony it would be if we defeated Sin!"
Jecht frowned and reached out to shake the cell door impatiently. "Stop gabbin' and get me outta here!"
Many minutes, and a large number of gil's later, the three stepped out of the City Guard building.
Jecht stopped, looking up at the blue sky, and stretched his arms wide before starting to scratch his bare chest. "Ahh... Free at last!"
Braska smiled slightly at Auron's grumpy expression. "Now, Jecht...," he paused as the odd man turned to look at him. "I am in your hands until we reach Zanarkand."
"Right, right," Jecht replied, looking at him blankly. "So, what's a summer-ner, anyway?"