"So, what's your story?" The tall dark haired man asked abruptly, an irritated frown on his face.

"Wha'dya mean? My story?" Jecht turned his head to look at his companions, rolling one shoulder that was still stiff from spending the previous night on a stone floor. "I'm Jecht, Blitzball champion and star forward of the Zanarkand Abes! What else do you need to know?"

"Can you fight?" Auron asked with a troubled glance at Braska. "That'd be nice to know…."

"How did you come here to Bevelle?" Braska asked patiently as he reached out a hand to calm Auron.

"This is Bevelle?" Jecht twisted around to stare at them, his eyes wide. "You've got to be shit'n me! It can't be! Where's the Blitz stadium, and the towers! Where did the arches go?" He came to a complete stop as they reached the intersection where the small street they were walking up met the much wider Second Ring Street and gazed up at the towering Temple in shock. "I've never seen that before, and I've been in Bevelle dozens of times…are you trying to pull a joke on me or something?"

Auron snorted, wondering what kind of fools the man thought they were, but Braska nodded slowly as he watched Jecht's obvious confusion. "I think we need to talk, but this isn't the place. Come on, we're almost home," he gestured across the Ring towards the side street leading to his house. "We'll get some breakfast when we get there, and then we'll talk."

Jecht stood rooted to the ground, staring at the city in angry confusion, and Auron finally took his arm and pulled him forward in Braska's wake, weaving their way through the morning traffic until they reached the steps of Braska's house.

"This your house? Nice," the odd man stopped to scratch his head, leaning around Braska to look in as the door opened. Braska nodded to the young man who opened the door and gestured Jecht forward.

"This is Jecht, he'll be staying with us for awhile," Braska took Jecht's arm and led him to the bottom of the stairway. "Norris, could you show our guest to his room? I'm sure he'd like to freshen up before breakfast."

Auron snorted softly from behind them; he hoped the barbaric man knew what soap was, because he stank of stale alcohol, sweat, and saltwater, and a night in jail had only added to his aroma. The swordsman stood at the bottom of the stairs and watched the stranger as he followed Norris up towards the guest suite, then turned to face Braska.

"Are you absolutely sure he's the one?" Auron asked his friend softly. They turned when they heard Jecht's voice faintly and listened as he complained about something in his room, hearing the softer sound of Norris's answer. "I mean…are you sure?"

Braska sighed and motioned Auron into his office, closing the door behind them and leaning against it in deep thought. "Yes, I'm afraid so. I don't know why he is so important, but yes…he is the one Bahamut sent." He sighed again as Auron threw himself onto one of the chairs and put his head in his hands. "Please give him a chance. It would be a lot easier on all of us if we can get along."

Auron ran his hands through his short hair and then nodded reluctantly. "I said I'd give him a chance, but…," he paused and stood up to pace the room as he thought. "He will have to protect himself, I'm not going to risk your life to save him," Auron said finally, his eyes holding Braska's until he got a nod of agreement. "I won't have him endangering you."

"We'll see what he knows," Braska answered, turning to look at the book titles on one shelf, trying to locate an easy to read history of Spira he thought he remembered from their earlier days in the Temple school. "There'll be some time for you to train him at least, since I still need to work with Quenten some more." He sighed as he finally found the book he was looking for and turned to set it on the desk. "Let's go get some caff, I sure could use some."

Jecht stopped shoveling sausage into his mouth for a moment and nodded for Tunis to add another egg to his plate. "This is great! Thanks! It's been too long since my last meal, this is all /I've had in days except for the nuts at the pub." He finally sat back with a sigh and rubbed his stomach. "I haven't eaten like this in a long time though – the coach is always pestering me about my weight."

The kitchen door opened and a small girl walked in, rubbing her eyes sleepily and pushing her tangled blond hair off her face. "Good morning, Daddy! Good morning, Uncle Auron!" Auron reached out to ruffle her hair and she giggled as she ducked out of reach. She stopped and looked up in surprise when she realized there was a stranger sitting in the kitchen. "Hello?"

"Who is this little cookie grabber?" Jecht asked as Yuna moved around the table to hug her father.

Yuna looked up in surprise. "I am Yuna! Who are you?" She smiled mischievously, peeking over the edge of the table at the remains of his breakfast. "Did you leave any for me?"

Jecht burst out laughing, "Well, I'm Jecht! Star player for the Zanarkand Abes, and I'm sure there's more for you!"

"What's a Zanarkand Abes?" Yuna asked as she climbed onto her chair and sat down at the table. Tunis set a plate with hotcakes and scrambled eggs down in front of the little girl and handed her a fork.

"Only the best Blitzball team in Spira!" Jecht exclaimed proudly, puffing his chest out with a smirk. He pushed his plate away with a satisfied sigh. "That was great! You sure know how to cook!" Tunis smiled as she refilled his cup, patting his shoulder gently before she moved around the table to refill Braska's cup.

"I've never seen blitzball, but Daddy said maybe I could go when I got older," Yuna said with her mouth full of hotcakes. "It's a long ways to Luca and I'm too little."

"You've never seen blitzball?" Jecht said in a shocked tone. "I'll have to show you some of my moves later." He nodded thanks to Tunis as she refilled his caff. "I have a couple real special ones."

"Come to my office if you're finished, we need to talk," Braska said, then stood and leaned over to kiss Yuna on her slightly sticky cheek before picking up his cup of caff and gesturing towards the hall. "You can bring your cup. Are you going to stay Auron?"

Auron sighed then rose as well, shaking his head as he followed Braska. "I need to go check on what's going on at the Temple, see how much trouble we're likely to catch for bailing Jecht out. Maybe I can find out what's going on. I'll be back in a couple hours." He turned and bowed slightly to Tunis. "Thank you for another wonderful meal, dear lady!" She smiled and swished a dish cloth at him, pleased by his gallantry. "Yuna, be good at school today and I'll see about taking you to play at Machel's this evening," he added with a smile. Yuna grinned widely at him, and he reached out to tip her chin up so he could properly admirea missing tooth. "Impressive!" Yuna giggled and went back to eating.

"Be careful at the temple Auron," Braska advised as they started down the hall. "It might be a good idea to keep a low profile." Auron nodded in agreement as he left, shutting the front door quietly behind him.

"Nice house…how long have you lived here?" Jecht walked slowly down the hall behind Braska, sipping at his caff and looking at the pictures on the walls. He stopped suddenly as he reached a painting of Luca at sunset, the last golden rays drawing a shining pathway on the ocean, making the city glow orange and yellow, and glinting off the Blitzball stadium. "Where is this? I've played in all the stadiums on Spira, and I've never seen this one…."

"That's part of what we need to talk about." Braska turned back and put a hand on Jecht's shoulder to urge him forward. "It's going to be a long story, and I think you'll want to be sitting down."

A short while later, an angry shout echoed down the hallway. "A thousand years! It's all gone? You're crazy!" Muffled voices were heard from the office for over two hours before a dejected Jecht finally went upstairs to rest, leaving Braska alone to think until Auron returned.

"So he claims he went for a sail out of the Zanarkand harbor, to get away from pestering fans while he trained. A storm came while he practiced, his boat capsized and he was swept away?" Auron murmured, scratching the stubble on his chin as he thought. He shifted in his chair and put his feet up on a cushioned footstool. "He doesn't know how he got to Bevelle?"

Braska shook his head and turned to look out the window, watching as the clouds made shadows slide across the side of the neighboring house. "He says he went under and thought he was going to drown, but then it felt like something grabbed him and he lost consciousness. When he woke up, he was still in the water, hanging on to a piece of wood. He floated for awhile, then saw lights and swam towards them. A fishing boat pulled him in a while later and dumped him at the docks, from his description it was one of the small drag line trawlers that works out in the bay. He didn't recognize where he was, but he thought he was in one of the smaller cities that used to be down the coast from Zanarkand." Braska turned back to look at Auron and moved to sit at his desk. "Apparently he's quite famous, where he comes from anyway, so he got upset when nobody recognized him. The fight started when the temple guards ridiculed him about being from Zanarkand."

Auron closed his eyes as he thought this through. "Do you believe him?"

"I…think I do," Braska answered finally. "He knows too many things about machina, and too little about Summoners and magic to be lying. I gave him a couple of the little machina Leyona was working on restoring and he was able to tell me all about them, more than Leyona knew even. Leyona couldn't get this one to work, but he took it back apart and changed where a couple of the pieces fit and...," he paused and picked a small brass globe off his desk. The globe, about four inches in diameter, was engraved with delicate flowers and vines, divided into two halves by a silver band.

Auron leaned forward to look at it closer. "What is it?"

Braska set the globe on the table after pressing gently on a slightly raised flower, and a delicate melody started to play. "A music player, something like a sphere I guess. Jecht says it is supposed to have hundreds of songs in it, but this one's memory is damaged so it only has a few left," Braska explained, shrugging as Auron looked blankly at him to show he didn't know what 'memory' meant either, then sighed as he continued. "I don't think he knows much about anything except Blitzball. It's all he's done for most of his life, ever since he was seventeen years old anyways."

"Can he fight at all?" Auron asked with a frown. "This could be a real problem."

"He says he's never used a sword - apparently fiends weren't much of a problem where, or when, he comes from, and they had a city guard and machina to protect them, so most people didn't know anything about fighting." Braska rubbed a hand across his chin and looked at his friend expectantly. "Do you think you can train him to be of some use in just a few weeks? We need to get out of here before the Temple starts to interfere. I've already heard rumors they're planning to do something concerning us."

"I've heard the same thing, but I haven't been able to find out anything specific. I've got a couple people looking for information, but so far nobody's got anything. As far as training Jecht goes…it will depend on how fast he learns," Auron answered slowly, his doubt evident on his face. "You know he'll be a liability, even if I can train him to use a sword…what makes you think he'll live to get to Zanarkand?"

Braska frowned as Auron rose and went towards the door. "Bahamut says we need him, so we'll just have to make sure he gets there."

"Alright, but he'll have to learn to fight quickly then," Auron turned to look at Braska and shook his head. "I won't risk your life for his…," he sighed as he reached the door and stopped to think for a moment. "Bring him with us when we go to see Quenten later. We can stop at a weapon shop on the way…and then we'll see."

"Jecht, you've proven you can fight with your hands, but have you had any experience with weapons?" Auron gestured at the various weapons stacked on shelves and hanging on the walls of the shop they had just entered. "Can you use a sword, or maybe a bo? A spear?"

Jecht turned, looking around at the weapons with a puzzled expression. "What is all this junk? Where are the rifles and pistols, maybe a machine gun, or a flame thrower - something with some punch?"

"The temple does not allow civilians the use of projectile weapons," the proprietor answered from the other side of a raised counter.

"What? Guns are great! The bigger the better!" Jecht grinned. "Grenades, bombs, beam cannons! That's the way to fight!"

"They are forbidden by Yevon's Teachings!" The tall man stepped forward to stand in front of Jecht with his hands on his hips and an angry scowl on his scarred face. "What are you, some kind of heretic?"

"I'm sorry, my friend is a little bit mixed up right now, he got hit on the head yesterday and he's still not sure what's going on," Auron explained as he reached out to grab Jecht's arm and pull him away from the man before he said anything else and angered the suspicious shop keeper any more than he already was. "Jecht, come over here for a minute, I need to talk to you," he growled as he pulled Jecht away and gestured for him to keep his voice down.

"Now, what is your problem? You are going to need a weapon," Auron insisted quietly. "This is one of the best weapon shops in Bevelle, and there isn't anything better. You can't have a gun."

"A fat lot of good this junk will do us," Jecht insisted, dropping a pair of throwing knives back onto a shelf with a sneer. "Why do we need any weapons to go to Zanarkand anyway? It's just a couple days boat ride."

Auron sighed, holding onto his patience with a white knuckled grip. "I thought Braska explained that to you. We have to travel on foot to visit all the temples where the fayth are kept, and the road is very dangerous. You can't reach most of them by boat, even if it was safe to travel that way."

"Visit all the fayth?" Jecht frowned and jerked his head to the side, cracking his neck with a sharp pop. "They're in the temple in Zanarkand, what's so hard about that?"

"The fayth were moved a long time ago, they're scattered across Spira and now we have a long and dangerous journey to visit each of them," Auron growled with frustration. "Weren't you listening?" He closed his eyes for a moment to calm down a little, then took a deep breath and continued. "What do you think you could learn the easiest? Just pick something so we can go meet Braska!" Auron picked up a sword with a wide bluish blade off a rack on the wall and swept it down in a two hand strike, gauging its weight and balance. "He's supposed to be meeting us down the street at the bookstore, and we're already late!"

"Yeah, Yeah…give me a sword…you seem to handle one fine, and if you can do it, then so can I," Jecht sighed finally when it was evident Auron wasn't going to let him leave until he chose something.

Auron stared at Jecht for a long moment. "We'll see how easy it is…here, take this one," Auron slapped the hilt of the sword into Jecht's hands and growled when he nearly dropped it in surprise.

"Geeesh, what a grouch," Jecht grinned as he brought the blade up in front of him into a rough approximation of a guard position, then lunged forward in an awkward slash, making Auron jump back to avoid being hit. "Yeah, this one will do fine," he continued, holding his new sword up to watch the sunlight reflecting off the blued steel of the blade.

Auron sighed and pulled his coin pouch out of his pocket as he headed for the shopkeeper. "Save it for later…I'll show you how you're supposed to hold it once we're out of town."

"Braska! I didn't expect to see you so soon, is something wrong?" The white haired man looked surprised when he opened the door, but gestured them inside. "Hello Auron, nice to see you again," he added, but looked puzzled when he saw Jecht. "…but I don't know your friend do I?"

"No, you wouldn't know him. Quenten, this is Jecht. He is the one we were waiting for. He's going to need some training, so he'll be with us today," Auron explained, nudging Jecht towards a seat on the couch, snorting when he got tangled up with his new sword sheath and nearly knocked over a table lamp. "Sit down, and don't touch anything."

"What do you think I am, a kid?" Jecht snarled and turned to glare at his impassive companion before he took a seat on a smaller chair instead, pulling the sword out of the way and crossing his arms defiantly on his chest. It had been a long and bewildering morning for Jecht and he was clearly out of patience with Auron.

Braska sighed as he looked at his two Guardians. They had been arguing ever since they'd left the weapon shop, and he was getting a little bit tired of the hostility between them. "I'd like to try spell casting again," Braska told his old friend as he took a seat beside Auron on the couch. "I've done some reading, and I think I figured out what I'm doing wrong. I'm going to try a little bit different approach to it this time."

The old mage looked at Auron and Jecht for a long moment with a perplexed expression on his face before turning back to Braska. "I see…so you think you figured out what the problem is?" Quenten grunted as Braska nodded agreement. "Wildred?" he called towards the door to the next room. "Pack me a travel bag with enough tea for four in a hot flask. We're going for a little walk." The faint sound of an acknowledgment came back as Quenten stood and moved over to a book case, running a finger along the spines of various books until he found the one he was looking for. He opened it and flipped through it as they waited. "I think it might be best if we went back to the basics today, as if you didn't know any spells, than worked our way up to the more difficult ones," he said, looking over at Braska as he spoke. "I'm going to let you have this book so you can take it with you when you leave. A lot of the spells in it are beyond your ability right now, but you may eventually be able to use them." The mage slapped the book closed as his middle aged daughter came into the room with an insulated travel bag, a large metal flask poking out of the top. Quenten took the bag with a grin and a nod of thanks and headed towards the front door, chuckling as Braska and Auron quickly jumped up to follow. "Well, come on, we don't have much time!" Jecht trailed after them, struggling with the unfamiliar weight of the new sword hanging off the belt at his waist.

"Where are we going, Quenten?" Auron asked curiously, following the older man up the street towards the inland side of town. Braska had worked on his spell casting with the old mage several times in the previous weeks, but this was the first time Auron had accompanied them. "There've been reports of fiends outside the city. It's not very safe to go out in the hills right now."

"Well, you don't think we're going to practice in town do you? That would hardly be safe either. I know of a good place out at the old quarry. Not likely to be anyone there, not many fiends in the area, and nothing to damage when…if… someone makes a mistake." Quenten chuckled at the sound of protest Braska made in response. "Everyone makes mistakes when they first learn a spell, its normal, especially when they don't have much aptitude for it."

"I'm not that bad…," Braska grumbled under his breath in reply. Auron snorted, but quit teasing when Braska turned to glare at him. Jecht followed behind, looking around with grim curiosity.

They walked for nearly a half hour and finally reached the site Quenten had mentioned. The quarry had supplied most of the paving stones for the city, so it cut quite a deep notch into the side of a small mountain. A deep pool of blue-green water, perhaps a hundred and fifty feet long and about fifty feet across at the point where they stood, filled the lower reaches, stretching from the edge of the slight downward slope leading into the quarry, to the bottom of the sheer limestone cliff at the far side.

Auron stopped for a moment to look around the area, checking for dangers, then walked further up the slope to look behind the large boulders that had fallen against the side of the cliff. "Looks clear," he called finally, and turned towards the newest guardian. "Jecht! You and I will work out over there." Auron pointed to a flat, gravel covered area, well out of Braska's way.

"Alright already, keep your pants on," Jecht grumbled, pulling at the unfamiliar weight of his new sword as he walked to join Auron. "You going to show me how to use this thing now?"

Auron growled under his breath, beckoned the man closer, and drew his sword. "Watch what I do, and then you do it!" This was going to be a long day, he thought as he watched Jecht struggling to draw his sword. What could Bahamut have been thinking?

Quenten lead Braska down the rocky slope and settled himself on a large slab of rock lying half buried in the gravel near the edge of the water. He set down the bag and opened his book, flipping through until he found the page he wanted.

"Braska, see if you can do this spell," the old mage pointed at a spell and looked at the younger man expectantly. "It's the same one you did last week. Just aim out over the water and see what you can do today."

Braska read through the spell, a low level black magic attack spell, and concentrated for a moment. "Fire!" Braska called firmly, pointing towards the grey limestone rocks at the far edge of the pool, a distance of about fifty feet from them. A ball of fire flew from Braska's hands and exploded on the wall, sending chips of gravel flying all the way to where they stood.

Quenten brushed several bits of rock off his shoulder, and looked at Braska for a long moment. "I'd like to know where that came from, young man…you certainly didn't have that kind of power the other day," Quenten commented before flipping to another page. "You're not blocking when you cast like you were last time either. Try this one, only aim it at the water."

"Blizzard!" Braska cast the ice spell and unconsciously stepped backwards as the closest section of the pool froze over and little fingers of frost crept up onto the gravel he was standing on. Braska stood for a long moment looking at the slowly melting ice and shivered, looking down at his hands and wondering at the way that had felt; almost as if some outside force were assisting, guiding his hands as he cast and forcing him to relax and release the spell smoothly towards his target, instead of mentally throwing it as if it were a magical grenade like he usually did when he cast.

Quenten raised his eyebrows in surprise, and turned the page on the book, beckoning Braska to join him. Braska stepped back over to Quenten with a smile, thrilled that his magic was working correctly for once, and motioned at the book. "What's next?"

"Try the other black magic elementals…and then we'll see what you can do with the white magic's," Quenten advised cautiously. He was pleased with the young man's success, but he was puzzled. There was something different about Braska today; his aura had changed and his power levels seemed much higher than they had been the last time they'd practiced. He sat quietly however and watched as Braska cast a thunder and then a water spell without a problem, and then rose and walked over to stand a few feet from his pupil, holding out the magic book once more, opened to a page well towards the back of the book. "Cast this one now, and make sure you aim well to the back of the quarry."

Braska read the instructions for the spell and gave Quenten a puzzled look, but the mage just nodded for him to continue. "Alright…if that's what you want me to do…," Braska agreed reluctantly. This spell was of a much higher level of difficulty than any he had ever tried, and he was fairly sure it wasn't going to work, even if the lower level spells had.

"THUNDAGA!" Braska shouted firmly, waving his hand in the required motion to cast the spell as he tried to relax, direct, and release the spell - all at the same time. There was a slight hesitation, an in-drawing of power almost, and then their hair stood on end and they were deafened as a series of tremendous lightning bolts struck downwards from the clear sky, hitting the back wall of the quarry, shattering the rocks, and collapsing a section of the wall into the pool. The blast sent small rocks flying onto the watching men and a mini-tsunami onto the shore where they were standing, making them jump back to avoid wet feet.

Quenten lowered his arms from where he had instinctively raised them to protect his head and turned to look at the remains of the back wall, shaking his head to clear the ringing in his ears from the deafening clap of thunder. A section nearly ten feet deep, fifteen feet wide, and the height of the sixty foot high wall had collapsed, leaving a raw scar of newly exposed rock, with dark scorches on the rocks on either side where smaller lightning bolts had impacted.

"Hey! You trying to kill us?" Jecht yelled as he wiped rock chips off his bare shoulders. "How did you do that?"

Auron raised his eyebrows in surprise and turned to look at the cliff as another section of rock slid into the water, raising another smaller wave to lap at their feet.

"Stand still for a moment, I want to check something...," the mage ordered, motioning Braska to stay where he was. Quenten waved his hand towards Braska and muttered a spell under his breath, then stood for a long moment with his eyes closed. The black mage opened his eyes finally and looked at Braska with his mouth pursed.

"What are you doing, Quenten?" Auron asked as he walked up to join them. He looked at Braska to see how the spell had affected him, but could see no change in his friend.

The mage waved his question off, and beckoned to Braska. "I'd like you to summon now, starting with the first aeon you were granted and working your way forward," Quenten instructed, stepping back and climbing onto the rock he'd chosen as his seat. The old man crossed his legs and set his hands on his knees, his face totally blank and expressionless.

Braska looked at his teacher but could not read anything from his face. He shrugged slightly and closed his eyes for a moment, then swung his arm out as if brushing aside a curtain. "Ifrit, come to me."

A red glyph appeared around Braska's feet and Ifrit appeared in his customary ball of fire, landing behind Jecht with a thump that shook the ground. "What is that?" Jecht yelled, swinging his sword up in the defensive position Auron had just taught him.

"Put that down!" Auron growled, reaching over to grab the sword from Jecht's hand. "Haven't you ever seen an aeon before?"

"NO!" Jecht yelled, backing up until he ran into a large rock and nearly fell. "No," he said more quietly as he realized he was the only one frightened by the apparent monster. "That's an aeon?" Jecht straightened and tried to pretend he hadn't been frightened, but failed miserably, to Auron's amusement.

"This is Ifrit," Braska said calmly as he walked forward to stroke the aeon's shoulder. "You've really never seen an aeon before?"

Jecht shook his head, then crossed his arms and glared at them, embarrassed by his reaction. The aeon waited patiently for instruction, and Braska turned to look at Quenten.

Quenten looked at Jecht with a puzzled expression before he closed his eyes for a moment and muttered to himself, then shook his head. "That's fine, you can dismiss him. Call the next one, please."

"There's more than one?" Jecht exclaimed, stepping backwards quickly and moving to stand behind Auron.

Braska frowned slightly at Jecht's reaction, but dismissed Ifrit without comment and called Ixion, the familiar glyph appearing and the lightning aeon jumping into view through the glowing disk. Quenten shook his head again and motioned for Braska to dismiss him.

"No, not this one…do you have another?" Quenten asked with a sigh. Braska shrugged, and dismissed Ixion with a word of thanks, then turned and summoned once more.

"Bahamut, come to me," Braska called softly. Once more a glyph appeared around Braska, and Quenten looked intently at it. The glyph flared with light, and Bahamut dropped down from the clear sky at an impossible speed, opening his wings at the last second and landing heavily on the ground in front of Braska. They covered their eyes as a blast of air hit them, driving dust into their faces. The majestic aeon crouched with his hands on the gravel, talons digging deep gouges, and looked intently at his summoner before he growled softly in an almost questioning way.

"You'll have to ask Quenten why he wanted you here…I don't have a clue," Braska chuckled, watching as Bahamut turned to look at the old mage and shifted stance to stand, crossing his arms as he waited patiently.

Quenten looked appraisingly from the aeon to the Summoner, and once again muttered to himself, closing his eyes for a long moment before climbing off his rock and approaching Bahamut and Braska.

"That's not going to attack us is it?" Jecht whispered loudly to Auron, getting a scornful look in response. "Well, how was I to know!" he added, impatiently. "You're the one that knows about this stuff!"

Quenten glanced at Jecht with another puzzled frown, and then looked back at Braska. "Very interesting. I don't suppose you'd like to tell me how you are pulling mana power from the aeon?"

Braska's eyes widened in surprise then narrowed as he turned to look accusingly up at Bahamut. The aeon opened his mouth in an unmistakable grin.

"You're not going to answer that are you?" Braska asked, crossing his arms in a pose matching the aeon's. Bahamut shook his head and rumbled at a pitch felt more than heard. "I didn't think so…," Braska shook his head too and then sighed before he continued, getting questioning looks from Auron and Quenten, and a totally baffled one from Jecht. "I didn't realize you were going to be so directly involved…but I do thank you for the assistance," he murmured, and received another soft growl from the aeon before Bahamut shifted slightly and raised his wings, sending dust into the air once more as if impatient to leave. "Thank you, you may go…," Braska said quietly, dismissing the aeon.

Bahamut roared and spread his wings as he jumped upwards and disappeared with a flash of light.

Quenten stared at Braska for a long moment before turning to look at Auron. Auron shrugged, and then turned to look at Braska with an unmistakable question in his eyes. "Directly involved?" he probed, puzzled by his friend's comment.

"He said he'd help, but I didn't expect this…," Braska answered absently. His companions looked at each other in surprise.

"I didn't think power sharing like that was possible, at least not with an aeon. I've seen some of the stronger mages do it with fiends, but that uses a draining spell to connect them, and I see no trace of an active spell on you," Quenten mused, giving Braska an odd look before turning to pull out the thermal flask and take mugs out of his carry bag. He poured each of them a cup of tea and settled back on his rock, shifting to get comfortable. "I don't suppose you'd like to tell me how you're doing it, and why the aeon was acting so oddly?" He'd worked with a number of Summoners during his long career with the Crusaders, and he'd seen Bahamut in action enough times to know this behavior was not normal.

Braska shrugged, concentrating on sipping the hot sweet tea. He wasn't sure if he could, or should, explain what Bahamut was doing, but he was sure Quenten wouldn't accept half an answer; once his friend set his mind on a puzzle, he didn't quit until he was satisfied with the answer. Braska leaned back on the rock he had chosen for his seat and a slight movement behind Quenten caught his eye. He looked up, his eyes widening as he saw the small figure of the fayth, standing on a large rock about twenty feet behind the mage.

The fayth of Bahamut gazed back at Braska for a long moment and then nodded slightly. "Tell him," the young fayth said quietly, his voice clear in Braska's ears despite the distance. He looked at Braska for a moment more and then disappeared.

"What is it?" Auron asked, putting his hand on the hilt of his sword as he turned to look in the direction his friend was gazing, curious to see what had put such an odd expression on his friend's face. "Braska? Are you alright?"

"Oh, nothing…," Braska turned his attention back to his companions, shaking his head in bemusement. "I'm fine." He was a little bit shocked however, that Bahamut wished the older mage to know about him.

Quenten sipped more of his tea, then set his mug on the rock and looked expectantly at Braska. "So, are you going to tell me about the power boost?"

"How did you know?" Braska sipped his tea again, stalling as he tried to decide how much, and how, to tell his old friend about the fayth.

"You used more energy on the one Thundaga than you should have had in total, given your level of training, and you'd already cast four solid elemental spells, one after another. Last I saw you those alone would have been your limit…if you had even been able to cast them." Quenten looked past Braska to where the aeon had been and shook his head. "I had a wild hunch and cast a scan on you…and your power level is through the roof. The only thing I know of with that type of power is an aeon, so I had you call them to see if I could match the power signature," Quenten looked back at Braska as he continued. "I admit I was surprised to see it was a match with Bahamut's."

Braska hesitated for a long moment and sighed, then emptied the last of his tea and held it out for a refill. "Alright, I will tell you, since he said to."

"He said?" Quenten asked, his eyebrows climbing up to meet his thinning hair. Auron cleared his throat, drawing the mage's eyes.

"He's not…exactly the way he used to be," Auron explained, holding his own cup in his hands and swirling the dark tea before he lifted it for a swallow, closing his eyes. "He's…awake now."

Quenten looked at Braska for a long moment before commenting. "Awake…as opposed to…?"

"The fayth are asleep, dreaming, except for Bahamut," Braska said quietly. "I…woke him up, and explained what was going on, about Sin..." He looked up at Quenten, and hesitated, knowing his old friend was going to have a hard time believing this. "He talks to me now, and he says he's going to help me destroy Sin."

Quenten sighed and rubbed his eyes, not knowing what to believe. "If I didn't know you better…and if I hadn't seen the power link…I would think you had lost your mind. I don't know though, I mean, it's still a little hard to accept…even seeing it."

Auron held up his hand to silence them as he heard the sounds of something approaching the quarry, and motioned for Braska, Jecht, and Quenten to stay where they were before he moved quietly up the slope. He stopped to crouch beside a rock and look down towards the city for a long moment before hurrying back. "Temple guards are coming, and it doesn't look right." He pointed towards a grouping of larger rocks off to one side, near where the ground sloped up towards the higher back wall. "I think we should move out of sight. It's not a regular patrol and I'd like to know what they are up to before they see us."

Braska and Quenten grabbed the book, flask and cups, and moved to quickly climb the slope and take cover behind the rocks. Auron and Jecht quickly joined them, and they crouched out of sight just as an armed group of about twenty men in various temple uniforms appeared at the top of the slope and started down.

The one in charge, a man Auron recognized as a lower level lieutenant in the temple guards and one of Maester Jenic's favorite errand boys, stopped as he reached the waterline to gaze out at the raw slash at the back of the quarry. "What happened to that?" he murmured with a frown. "I don't see anyone…are you sure you saw them come this way?"

"Yes, they came this way," a beefy guard with a large bruise on the side of his face stated coldly as he moved down to join him and frowned as he squatted to look at the ground. "Look," he said as he pointed at the deep marks Bahamut had left in the gravel beside the water. "Something's been here, and recently - water is still filling the holes."

"Spread out and look," the officer ordered abruptly, waving his men to start searching. "I want some blood for what that mad man did to us last night."

"Whose men are they?" Quenten whispered, leaning forward to peer through a gap between the boulders.

"I recognize some of them," Jecht muttered from behind Quenten. "Those are the ones who needed the lesson in manners yesterday. They're the ones who started the fight." He looked closer and grunted. "How come they have rifles…I thought we couldn't use them?"

"The temple guards are allowed rifles," Auron said sourly, and reached out to pull the old mage back further into hiding. "They're Maester Jenic's men, and the big one is Talbot, his favorite goon." He glanced around, not happy with their current location, but seeing no way to move without being seen. "They look like they want a rematch. I don't know what they have planned, but if Talbot is here, it's probably not good for us. Still, I'd rather not confront them if we can avoid it. We don't need any trouble with the Temple right now."

Quenten had been flipping through his book, and he reached out to tap Braska's arm, then passed it over to him. "Memorize the second one down on the left. It's a protect spell, in case they start shooting."

Braska studied the book for a long moment, also looking at the other spells on the opposite page, noting the spell to induce sleep, then handed it back with a nod of thanks. "I have an idea, if Bahamut will cooperate that will…not be needed." Auron turned to look at his friend and raised an eyebrow questioningly. "All we need is them looking the other direction long enough for Quenten and me to get close enough to cast sleep on them, and then we can leave. They wouldn't know what, or who, hit them." He glanced at Auron and smiled slightly. "I think I can provide a distraction."

"I say lets give them another thumping - apparently they didn't learn their lesson yesterday," Jecht said, looking over the rocks that sheltered them with an eager expression on his face.

Auron frowned unhappily but agreed to Braska's plan, not seeing any other options since they didn't want a direct confrontation with the guards.

Braska nodded then closed his eyes and concentrated on what he needed as he cupped his hand over Bahamut's necklace, remaining silent for a moment before speaking softly. "Bahamut? We have a bit of a problem…would you help us please?" Quenten opened his mouth to ask what Braska was doing, but a sudden blast of wind made him duck and cover his eyes.

Once again, a tremendous gust of wind drove dust into the air, and Bahamut dropped from the sky, flaring his wings as he landed on all fours with an earth shattering roar behind the armed temple guards, only this time... there was no flash of a summoning glyph around Braska to betray them.

The guards stumbled back in surprise, some raising their rifles and firing frantically at what they thought was a huge fiend. The aeon reached out and slapped the rifles out of their hands, and roared once again, sending men diving to the ground to escape being struck by his whipping tail.

Quenten looked at Braska with wide eyes, but Auron grabbed his arm and motioned for the mage to follow him as they jumped from behind the rocks and quickly moved up behind the men from the temple, close enough to begin casting sleep spells over them.

Within seconds the entire group was unconscious, and Auron motioned Jecht forward, walking over to stand in front of the aeon. "Thank you, for your help," the swordsman said gratefully, looking up to meet the dragon's eyes. "And I thank you for your help the other day at the temple as well. It could have gotten…ugly. I had no wish to hurt men I trained with and worked beside…but I would have had to if you had not come." He bowed formally as the aeon growled softly and nodded his head, acknowledging the thanks.

Braska stepped forward to join his guardian and also bowed deeply before he straightened and stood looking up at the aeon. "Thank you for coming, were you injured?"

Bahamut shook his head slightly, then sat back on his haunches and reached one huge hand out to roll the lieutenant over onto his back in order to see his face. Braska gasped as he saw the blood running from a bullet wound on the aeon's arm, and stepped forward to put his hand on the dragon's. "Please my friend, let me heal that?" Bahamut turned his head to look at Braska for a moment then extended his arm for the ex-priest to look at.

"Cura," Braska said, casting a strong healing spell onto the aeon, watching as the wound sealed and disappeared. The aeon flexed his arm with a soft growl of thanks, then lifted one of the fallen rifles and examined it more closely before tossing it into the water with a snarl.

Braska watched as the aeon examined the rest of the men curiously, his eyes going wide as Bahamut picked Talbot up by the back of his coat, holding him up for a closer look before dropping him back onto the gravel. "Is there a problem?"

Bahamut turned to look at the temple rising high above the city and shook his head as he rumbled with discontent. He turned back and growled a louder warning as he raised his wings, preparing to take off, but barely waiting for them to move back before he leapt into the air, disappearing with a snap of his wings.

"Well, that was interesting," Quenten murmured with his eyes nearly closed in thought. "Lets get out of here, the sleep spell won't last for much longer and I certainly don't want to be here when they wake up." He looked intently at Braska, and the younger man groaned; he knew he was going to have to explain what had just happened, and he wasn't looking forward to it.