Author's Note: This here story is not only my very first attempt at fan fiction, but also my first time writing in first-person, so I thought I'd ease myself into it by writing from the point of view of an original character. This particular fic is mostly just a set-up for it's sequel that will revert back to a third person perspective, but I do promise to do my best to keep this one entertaining, if nothing else. Reviews, suggestions, and constructive criticism are all very welcome and appreciated.

Disclaimer: I do not own nor claim to own any of the FFX characters or locations, though some minor details will be changed to better suit the story.

The End of Sacrifice

Chapter One: Luca

I never would gave admitted it at the time, but I was scared, truly frightened as I pushed and ducked my way frantically through the crowded stadium of Luca. The three soldiers were gaining on me each time I had to twist to the side to avoid toppling over some unexpecting passer-by.

Blitzball season had just begun and the city was bursting with fans and players alike, all anxious for the opening tournament set to start in an hour's time. An hour? Possibly less, but I didn't dare take the time to glance up at the clock in the central portion of the stadium. Instead I willed myself to look back. The men were closer. No more than a few feet until I would undoubtedly fall into their grasps. I was faster than them and by all other means I should have found my escape already. But the crowd was a hindrance and not nearly as eager to move from my path as they were to part way for members of the formal guard. If anything at all, I expected to be snatched up by some do-gooder citizen and turned over to the authorities regardless of the fact that I'd done nothing wrong. That's Spira for you; a bunch of fools acting hastily without real knowledge of a given situation.

I closed my eyes, drawing in as deep a breath as possible, willing it not to sputter into another fit of choked coughs that would leave me worse off than I had been. Digging my feet into the concrete, as if it'd give way like sand if I didn't move fast enough, kick it up hard enough, I ran even faster, no longer caring that I had to shove my way through the swarming fans. If there was a way to lose them and keep them lost, it had to be then. With the last little bit of my energy and one last glance over my shoulder, I ducked through the densely populated path that lead from the stadium to the central plaza. For a moment I was sure they had failed to see me veer away from the stadium and I doubled over trying to catch my breath, I even mused that they continued straight and found themselves alone and out of luck on the port. That is, until I saw the commander of the three weaving against the flow of traffic as more and more people decided it was a better time than any to make their way to their seats.

There was a tiny amount of relief in the fact that they had, indeed, seemed to have lost me for a time, but that wouldn't last long if I stayed where I was. I was still out of breath and my legs felt more like rubber than actual flesh and bone, but I had no choice but to keep moving. Staying low, I drifted into the push and shove of the crowd and allowed myself to be filtered past the officer and back into the stadium. If I could make it to the docks unnoticed, I might be able to hide behind the piles of cargo until the ferry left for Kilika.

I don't know how long I was there, crouching behind the stack of crates on dock one, only that if I didn't move soon, I wouldn't be able to when it became necessary. The first ten minutes had felt like hours and all the time that passed beyond that was a purgatory of fear.

"Did you get that last match?" I froze, the muffled rasp of a man's voice on the other side of the crates. Even if it wasn't somebody potentially dangerous, if they noticed her there, they would no doubt draw the wrong sort of attention. The voices began to fade slightly and I stifled a sigh of relief. Perhaps they were moving away.

"There she is!" Another voice came from behind and running footsteps. How could I have been so stupid! The hiding spot was perfect had I been trying to avoid someone either on the dock itself or coming from the direction I had. But Luca was circular and I was as good as in plain sight to anyone passing through from dock two.

Spinning around, I planted a foot on one of the boxes and leapt over the stack, landing on the other side with a stumble as I tried to go back into a full out run. I darted past the man I had heard and turned back once to check the position of the guards. Before I could stop or even see it coming, I collided with someone and found myself in a heap.

"Sorry…I'm so sorry". I wanted to help him up, make sure he was all right, but there was no time. As quickly as I'd fallen, I was back on my feet again.

"How dare you treat a summoner with such reckless disregard!" If I'd had a choice, I never would have looked back to find the source of the voice, but as it was, I had reached the end of the pier. A dead end with the guards already securing the only way out. I dropped to my knees in defeat, looking upon the summoner apologetically as the guards closed in, swords drawn.

"In the name of Yevon, we order you to turn yourself in!" The annoyance in the officer's voice was clear. Apparently he doesn't like running around the city. I smirked ever so slightly, allowing it to grow bolder as I stood and unsheathed my sword. It was an uncommon blade, dramatically curved and extremely light, yet still sturdy and as strong as the sea. Tossing it into the air, I twirled it; making a small spectacle as it spun and dropped firmly back into my hand. I grinned at their expressions, at the small fact that even vastly outnumbered I had managed to plant a small seed of doubt into the back of their minds. I knew better than anyone that it was sometimes all you needed to gain and edge. Outnumbered, yes, but they knew that I wasn't going down without a fight. My smile was almost sadistic as I slashed the air in from of me, an invitation to let the battle begin.

The first two charged and went down easily enough, my dark hair flying wildly into my eyes with every thrust and parry. Once defeated, more came, six soldiers surrounding me, backing me into the far end of the dock. I was stuck. My shoulders brushed the high railing behind me and it hindered my every movement.

This is it, I thought. Closing my eyes, almost peacefully, I dropped to my knees again, a sword point held to my throat. I relaxed and another wry smile played upon my lips. If it was the end, at least I had been blessed with the chance to go out proudly. An end to my curse at last.

"Enough!" My eyes fluttered open and I sighed, an ornate robe was blocking my view. Its owner now standing between me and the instrument that I was sure would be my death. He turned to me and the kindness in his eyes was overwhelming as he took my hand and pulled me to my feet, staying in front of me as he backed towards the men I'd heard speak before. His guardians, I supposed. "I demand to know what charges are being held against this girl and how you call yourselves men, all the while ganging up on someone nearly have your sizes." I think I may have smiled then. His voice, though angry, was one of a gentle nature. I had a passing thought that this was probably true of most summoners.

"She is a prisoner of Bevelle," the commanding officer spoke. "Move aside or join her."

The guardians stepped forward, hands on their weapons and ready to strike, but the summoner held them back. "Would you honestly arrest a summoner of Bevelle, intentionally stop his pilgrimage and expect to keep not only your job, but your life?"

"Sir – " the soldier stuttered. I laughed, finally stepping out from behind the group to witness the soldier's bumbling firsthand. "We have strict orders from the High Priests not to let this one get away. She's a danger to the citizens of Spira."

The eyes of the summoner party looked at me, bewildered. I stood nearly a foot less in height than anyone else present, my pale eyes tired, lacking any hint of malice and my frame strong, but very small. None of them could believe that a pixie of a child pose a threat to anyone.

"Come on, Braska, let's forget these fools and go!" I glanced at the man, wondering whether he meant to convince his friend to leave me there. His eyes met mine in a kind sort of nod, perhaps even a hello, his bright red headband keeping his waves of dark hair from spilling into his eyes with the motion. No, this one wouldn't turn me in. I could see my own natural defiance matched in his features. This one would help me just for the chance to fight.

I grinned up at him cheekily and he chuckled. I could easily read his thoughts on his face. 'This one? Dangerous. Yeah…right.'

"Auron, Jecht, come on." The man they'd called Braska turned and looked down at me. "What is your name?"

"Krista." My voice was raspy, my throat dry from staying silent so long.

"Do these men have reason to think you dangerous," he asked, his eyes searching my face for honesty as I opted not to speak and instead glared at the soldiers, shaking my head. I wasn't dangerous, not unless I was backed into a corner. I sighed. Not unless the unknown, the impossible, frightens you. He nodded, turning back to face the soldiers. "Do not interrupt this party again." They began to protest, but the summoner had already turned to walk away.

I stood as still as I could as he came back to me. I didn't even know where to begin as far as thanking him. I was exhausted, the waves of relief pulling my guard down enough to finally feel the throb in my legs and stomach. Too much running and too much fear. I felt like my body had decided to wait until I was out of trouble before it gave in and lost the will to survive. I sat. I didn't want to or even mean to, I just couldn't stand any longer, couldn't hold my head up and before I had the chance to realize that I couldn't keep my eyes open either, I was out.