Legendary Guardian – Winds of Change

Youke flowed smoothly from one position of the kata to the next. The slow elongated forms stretched his ligaments, releasing the tension from his body. Familiar movements and deep centered breathing allowed him to unchain his mind from thought and care. Here he could set aside sorrow, pain, and responsibility. In the kata, as in battle, he could focus completely and solely on being.

When the final form was complete, he assumed seiza position on the floor of the dojo. Facing the east wall recess, he placed his hands before him on his knees and contemplated the scroll that hung there. Below the symbol of Yevon the calligraphy read:

Heaven and earth are my parents
The people of Spira my Brothers and Sisters
Yevon my home

Honesty is my power
Docility my means
Benevolence my armor
The Law my sword

My strength of will is my magic
Emptiness and fullness my tactics
Adaptability to all circumstances my principal

I will meet speed with speed
Strength with yielding
Force with deflection
Retreat with attack

I will read my opponents intention in his eyes
I will dance upon the wind as a feather
He will not touch me

I deny the antagonist victory
I deny my death
I live to fight my sorrow
In doing so I live as though already dead

I become free

These were the guiding principals of his Order - the core of his being. It occurred to him, not for the first time, how contradictory it must seem to many that a priest would spend his life training to kill. Youke knew it might be hard to comprehend how someone who preached the need for atonement in the eyes of Yevon could practice violence. Yet he also knew he had never used his skills against a living being – and he never would. He thought back to his early years as an acolyte of the temple. The long days of menial labor and hours of study had bored him to tears but, as he grew older, he came to enjoy the lessons in theology and history almost as much as his time on the training mats. Both had served to distill him into the person he was today.

That led him to thoughts of Auron. He sighed heavily remembering the conversation with Umaro yesterday. Not that you could have called what he'd done at the start of their meeting conversation. It had been more like goading and attacking. The memory of it made him cringe. The result had been a night of self-castigation and little sleep. Now, as the sun came up, there were decisions to be made and consequences to face. He fervently hoped he would be able to do the right thing.

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Youke wasn't one to lose his temper. In fact, if you excluded fiends, he could count on one hand the number of times he had gotten angry enough to even shout at someone. But, at this moment, the Second of Bevelle was well and thoroughly enraged. Irritation and fury radiated from Youke in waves as he strode with purpose through the halls of St. Bevelle Temple. Watchmen snapped to attention and saluted their commander as he passed. Youke did not return the favor. Acolytes and Dedicated walking the halls paled as he approached and skittered off looking for different routes to their destinations. It was clear that the Second's disposition would brook no interruption or delay in reaching his goal.

That goal was the office of Maester Umaro.

Since his sister's funeral, it had been necessary for Youke to send troops to the Calm Lands to quell fiends numerous times. The motherless son of a shoopuf that had run the training facility had done more damage than Youke could have dreamed possible. The most imaginative of the trainer's concoctions had such speed that his troops never even got the chance to strike.

It was imperative the area be cleared of the most dangerous of these fiends if any Summoner was to have a chance at crossing the Calm Lands to attempt Mt. Gagazet. After several months of unsuccessful attempts, Youke had left Bevelle three weeks ago with one thousand troops and one hundred healers and alchemists. Four Summoners and their Guardians had also joined them, hopeful that they would be able cross the plains and to offer their abilities to Send should they be needed. Three weeks of unending battles and vigilance had reduced the force to six hundred. Despite their abilities, the healers could only rejoin a soul to a body so many times before the call of the Farplane became too strong and the poor warrior had to be Sent. Even the Summoners had been reduced in force. A regrettable incident with a modified creature called a Nesuragu had claimed the life of the woman Ikara and her Guardian Darren two weeks into the fighting. It had greatly hurt his troops morale.

Then, two days ago, the Summoner Jarden had disappeared for several hours. When he returned he had gained a new and quite powerful Aeon. The tide had begun to turn. Youke had struck up a friendship of sorts with Jarden and his Ronso Guardian Takk in the preceding weeks. The three of them were leading the vanguard party, killing every fiend in their path, when the messenger had arrived with his orders four hours ago.

Nothing frustrated Youke more than failure. Yielding on the field when the battle could be won was as akin to failure as it got. Only outright retreat could have upset him more -- and the loss of his men was already too dear for his liking. The poor messenger had nearly gotten himself killed by approaching while Youke was under the influence of battle frenzy. Had Jarden not cast esuna, the man surely would have died as Youke unleashed an Overdrive. Of course, it might have been more pleasant than the harangue he received instead.

And so Youke took a chocobo back to Bevelle and now stalked the halls of the Temple. He had given his troops to the care of a trusted captain who could be counted on to hold the line until his return.

Peeling his gloves from his hands as he neared the Master's office, he slapped them against his thigh; a testament to his impatience. A finally turn down a narrow hallway brought him to a stop in front of the scribe that guarded Umaro's privacy and served as his assistant. The little man blanched at the sight of the angry Second.

"The Maester is expecting you." The scribe started to stand and open the anteroom door. "Please..."

Youke swept past the man without a word and threw open the door. It was the first of many actions he would make in the next five minutes that he would live to regret.

Umaro sat, relaxed, on the edge of his desk near one of the two large wing chairs used for guests. His head jerked up at Youke's abrupt entrance, a look of concern on his face. "Youke, it is good to see you. Thank you for coming so quickly. I apologize for sending for you at all, but the matter is of great importance." The Maester stood and started to approach his friend. "Can I make you some tea?"

"Tea!" Youke exploded, "You called me here to make me tea, Umaro? Do you have any idea the number of people I have watched die in the last three weeks?" Youke threw his gloves down on a nearby low coffee table with a resounding slap. "Finally, by the grace of Yevon, we turn the tide and I am ordered to return to Bevelle! Can you even comprehend the magnitude of the tactical error you have caused me to commit? What in the name of the Farplane and all that is holy could possibly be so important that it could not have waited?"

Umaro expression shifted to that of shock. Youke had stormed into his office, questioned his orders, and refuted the authority of a superior officer. Additionally, he had done so without bothering the close the antechamber door. The Maester loved the man -- in point of fact considered Youke his best friend in spite of the difference in their ages -- but the situation had gone past the point of no return. There was no amount of stress that could excuse this kind of outburst, particularly when his loose-lipped scribe was sure to broadcast the event all over the Temple.

"Sir Youke, in deference to our years of friendship, and your service to Bevelle, I will try to overlook the fact that you have gravely insulted me and blasphemed in my office." The Maester drew himself up sternly, the full weight of his position and authority resounded in his voice. "Since you are unaware of the nature of your recall, and have obviously failed to notice the fact that we are not alone or behind closed doors," Umaro growled and looked pointedly at the chair on his right, "I will give you the opportunity to apologize."

Youke inhaled sharply as he looked at the indicated chair. Auron was sitting there with his eyes as wide as saucers.

The realization of what he had just done in the presence of his nephew, much less the scribe, set in immediately. Youke had shamed himself so completely that there was no other course of action. Knowing it would not be enough, Youke bowed his head, removed his weapons and performed the sign of prayer before prostrating himself before Umaro. His breastplate and bracers dug into his flesh as he lay prone on the cold stone floor. "I deserve to be disciplined for my presumption, Lord Maester. I have disrespected you, your position, and the Temple. Accept my resignation and most sincere request for forgiveness."

Auron sat frozen in the chair watching events unfold. He'd been in the Maester's office for several rather uncomfortable hours having been brought by one of the men of the watch. After a rather stern lecture about appropriate behavior and discipline, he was given tea and cakes while the Maester wrote letters and spoke with several guards. Finally, about an hour ago, the Maester had started to question him. He had asked him about Kilika, Shana, and his home here in Bevelle. He had questioned him about his friends. The Maester even tried to elicit his opinion regarding Blitzball teams and the upcoming tournament.

Knowing the blond man was important in some way, but not completely sure how, Auron was tried hard to be on his best behavior. In Kilika, the Temple Priests were the most important people. Every once in a while, pilgrims would come by ship to pray. The village would talk for a while about them, and they were treated with respect, but the priests were the focus of daily life. Here in Bevelle, priests bowed to this man and showed respect to his uncle. Remembering the dance Umaro had done at his mother's funeral he timidly asked a few questions about what a Summoner did, what it was like to Send people, and if the Maester had been a pilgrim. Umaro had been explaining about Aeons when the commotion began.

Youke had stormed in the room like a whirlwind and for a moment Auron wondered if his uncle might hit the Maester. It confused him because he thought Youke and Umaro were friends. Then, after Youke stopped shouting, Umaro had gotten upset. That's when Auron turned into the center of attention.

Astonished, Auron watched while his uncle removed his weapons and fell on the floor. He didn't know what this meant but he could tell it wasn't good. The tall blond man looked down at his uncle and sighed. Then he called out to the man in the other room.

Auron didn't know why, but he didn't much like the man who sat in the hallway. He reminded the boy of fiend he'd seen once and called a "squish" -- an oozing jelly-like thing that smelled funny and was hard to kill without casting some kind of magic on it. The icky little man came to the doorway, looked at his uncle, and then shut the door. Auron thought he saw him smile.

The Maester turned, went to the other side of his desk, and stood in front of a large window with parted curtains. He didn't say anything at all to Youke. The blond man just stared out the window with his hands behind his back. The whole time his uncle simply lay on the floor in front of the desk without moving.

Auron was feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He started to nervously pick at some loose threads on his pants. He knew Shana would probably get mad at him for making another hole in the knee but he didn't know what else to do. Auron was sure of one thing though; his uncle was in BIG trouble.

Finally, after what seemed like forever, Umaro spoke.

"Get up off the floor, Youke. You've made a fool of yourself enough for one day."

Youke still didn't move. His eyes were closed. Auron wondered if he'd fallen asleep. Without turning Umaro spoke again.

"Youke, I told you to get up. Don't make me tell you a third time."

Slowly, his uncle rose to a kneeling position. His hands assumed the Sign of Prayer. Youke's head remained bowed and he said quietly, "You have not said that you forgive me."

The blond man sighed and turned to face the boy and his uncle. Auron thought he looked older all of the sudden. He was definitely sad.

"Youke, as your friend I can forgive you. While I do not know the most recent details, I do know that the fighting has been fierce and you lost a Summoner. I can understand your frustration. You are a contentious leader and you feel responsible when your men die. However, as a Maester of Yevon and your Commanding Officer, I cannot excuse what you just did. I'm required to Censure you. I will likely have to demote you. I have also just had the joyless task of reprimanding you in front of your nephew."

The Maester walked over and raised Youke's head. Auron didn't think it was good that he was here to watch this, but where was there to go? He turned his head to stare at a bookshelf.

"This situation is regrettable, mostly because it has made me feel that you do not trust me. It saddens me that you think I would call you away from your men without good purpose."

Auron heard robes rustling and the door click. He turned to see the Maester step out and speak to the man at the desk. The scribe followed Umaro back into the office. Auron got angry when he saw the rat turn his nose up at his uncle.

"Auron," said the Maester "I enjoyed our talk today. I hope that, if you come to visit me again, you will not be in the company of a member of the watch."

Youke's head snapped up to stare at Auron. The boy's face flushed so badly that his ears turned red. Now he was in trouble. Uncle Youke wouldn't give him any tea and cakes like the Maester. He'd probably get no dinner instead.

"My scribe, Longin, is going to take you on a tour of the acolytes housing and the armory at the monastery." Auron frowned. He was going to have to spend time with this nasty person. "He will introduce you to Wellak."

Umaro smiled at Auron and put out a hand in inviation. The dislike the boy had for the scribe was apparent on his face and Umaro couldn't thinking that the boy had good instincts about people. Longin was a snitch appointed by the Grand Maester Mika and Umaro couldn't get rid of him.

"Wellak was a friend of your Grandfather and helped to teach your uncle Youke. Stay as long as you like. When you are ready to go home, Longin will take you."

The Maester put a hand on Auron's shoulder and guided him out of the chair. He started to leave with the scribe but stopped. Glancing at his uncle, still kneeling on the floor, the boy hesitated.

"Is something wrong, Auron?" Umaro asked.

It seemed to Auron that something very important had happened to him. He didn't understand what was going on, but it was clear now that the blond man was more important than anyone he knew in all of Spira. His uncle was kneeling there on the floor and Auron knew that if Umaro didn't give him permission, he wouldn't move. This man had the power to Send people to the Farplane. This man deserved respect and Auron was going to be sure he gave it.

"No, Sir. I just thought..." Auron couldn't say exactly what it was he felt, but he knew what he was supposed to do about it. The boy took a deep breath and turned to face the Maester fully. He respectfully performed the Sign of Prayer and bowed very low to the man in front of him. "Thank you, Maester Umaro," Auron said without looking up. Then, very carefully, he backed his way out of the room.

The boy didn't know it, but he had made his uncle very proud.

Once the door closed, Umaro walked over and did something that Youke had never seen him do. He locked it.

"Youke, I had a reason for asking you here." The man moved swiftly and sat in the chair vacated by Auron. He turned the matching chair to face him. "That reason just bowed its way out of this room. Get off your knees and into the chair. I am tired of playing Maester."

Youke looked perplexed but did as he was told.

Umaro leaned forward in his chair and stared pointedly at his friend. "I had hoped to do this in a more delicate manner, but I might as well get to the point. Three times in as many spans the guard has found that boy in compromising situations down at the docks. It is apparently not the first time they have found him there." Youke's eyes widened in shock as Umaro continued. "He is running with a company of misfits, hooligans, and would-be thieves. After several hours of observing and questioning him, it is my opinion that the child is unaware of the danger he may be getting himself into. I am assuming that you had no idea."

Youke was too dumbfounded to respond verbally. He shook his head in the negative.

"I made some inquiries. Apparently, the members of the watch have been covering up for the child. Your housekeeper sends him out to play with the children. All the neighbor boys like to Blitz and it takes them down to the docks. Auron doesn't care for the game and so he started befriending the other children there. A logical conclusion." The Maester chuckled and shook his head. "The boy thinks his new friends are great fun."

Youke rested his head in his hands and sighed.

Umaro wasn't done. There was more. "The guardsmen know Auron's face and know he is your nephew. They respect you and don't want any scandal for you. Their solution has been to waylay the boy and return him to the house when he wanders too far. This has apparently been going on for several cycles."

"What?"

Umaro ignored Youke's shock and pressed on. "The reason that they brought the boy to me today is that he and his friends were involved in a fight with some Al Bhed. It took half a dozen guardsmen to break up the scuffle. Since you were not in Bevelle, and our friendship is well known, I was the logical choice. The other boys involved were taken to the locks until their parents retrieved them."

The Maester sat there and waited for Youke to say something. Words were not forthcoming. Umaro was about to say something when he realized that a tear had fallen from Youke's eye. He reached over and patted the younger man on the shoulder.

"I'm sorry to have told you that way." The Maester sighed and his voice softened. "As someone who has raised three sons and a daughter I can tell you it is not easy under the best of circumstances. You wish you could follow them everywhere. But you can't Youke. And the battle you are going to face with this boy will only become more difficult with age. I spent enough time with him today to know that he is intelligent and perceptive. He is also full of energy, as young men are wont to be. Something will have to be done or it will come to a bad end."

Youke nodded. He was trying to process everything that had happened in the last few hours. It was such a jumble. His whole world was now completely upside down.

"Umaro, I am sorry." Youke shook his head in bewilderment. "I make a terrible father and a worse friend. With your permission, I should go home. I must have a discussion with Shana about this and make some course of action."

The Maester nodded and Youke rose to leave. Umaro stayed him by taking his hand. "Before you go, I would offer you an option to consider. In a way, it may help us both save some face out of the situation you created earlier..."

The younger man tilted his head in silent question and waited for Umaro to continue.

"Enroll the boy as an Acolyte. Normally the Temple would not take him until seven since he has a living relative, but I believe that an exception could be made. He could continue to live at home until the designated age, but it would give his days structure and keep him busy."

Youke's expression was openly readable from the tilt of his head. And this resolves our problem how?

"The boy also needs a father figure. It is not a rebuke, but your current position keeps you away from Bevelle too much to fill that void for him. I'm sure your outburst will be all over the city by this time tomorrow. If I demote you to a teaching position at the monastery you will be able to stay in Bevelle to watch over the child. You will also be able to observe him with his playmates and ensure they are of the right sort."

The Second of Bevelle stiffened and closed his eyes. "And what position would you have me take?"

"Assistant to Wellak, the Master of Arms for the Dedicated. He is getting old."

Youke nodded. He'd known Wellak all of his life. He was a good man.

Umaro continued. "It would allow him to effectively retire to the position of Armorer. You would still use your skills on a daily basis and even be able to take students for maneuvers several times a year. It is not prestigious, but it is an important position and it would keep you active as a warrior."

"I will consider it, Umaro." Youke squeezed the older man's hand and smiled tightly. "I suppose it is the best that I could hope for after today. I will give you my answer tomorrow."

The Maester was devastated. He had wanted so much more for Youke. As Second of Bevelle, he had been the best of leaders. Having him in council had been a joy. Now that time was over no matter what the young man decided. It would be many years, if ever, before Youke could overcome the political mishap and return from obscurity. "Don't be too hard on the boy, Youke. He is a very special child." He barely noticed when Youke's hand left his.

Youke crossed the room and unlocked the door. He knew what this was costing both of them. He opened the door and turned to face his mentor. He performed the sign of prayer exactly as his nephew had done not a half-hour before. "Thank you, Lord Maester Umaro," he said. Youke backed out of the room and closed the door. It was another hour before the Maester realized that Youke had left his swords.