Braska, I'm going to ring your neck when I find you, he thought.

The ship upon which he was sailing was long and rickety; it swayed with even the gentlest motion from the sea, but right now they happened to be in aftermath of a storm. The waters were still tall and choppy, and hurdled the boat through the sea ferociously. Auron was gripping the side roughly, his face a delicate shade of green, trying with difficulty to keep his stomach settled. This task was made nearly impossible, however, by his worry for Braska. Even before they had set sail his body was a tangled mess of jittery nerves and an upset stomach. Where was his friend? Was he alright? Why had he not contacted anyone? Could he have been kidnapped, or worse?

Auron groaned and pitched his head over the side of the boat, finally giving in to his churning insides. A firm pat on the back wasn't exactly welcome, but it couldn't hurt anymore, either. Once he had finished, Auron straightened himself up, standing as proudly as he could and wiping his mouth to face the stranger. It was a tall, handsome young man about his age with dark skin and straight, golden hair. His eyes were green and swirled…

"You are an Al-Bhed!" Auron cried incredulously.

The man laughed and nodded happily, straightening the thick goggles upon his forehead and bowing politely.

"I am Rin," he said politely, his accent heavy.

"Auron," he responded. They shook hands.

"You seemed surprised at my presence," Rin said. "Have you never met an Al-Bhed before?"

Auron shook his head.

"I've lived in Bevelle since I was eight."

"Ah, then I cannot blame you!" he laughed. Auron was silent. Rin tried to continue their conversation.

"You do realize, however, that you are headed in to an area quite populated by the Al-Bhed?"

"That's why I'm here, actually. This is the only ship that was sailing to Bikanel."

"May I ask what business you have there?"

"I'm – I'm trying to find a friend," he said, trying to remain a little cryptic.

Who knew who this man was? Perhaps he was the same one who had kidnapped Braska? If that was the case, however, wouldn't this man take him to his friend as a prisoner? If they were both taken hostage, it didn't matter, Auron would figure out a way to escape. But something in this man's demeanor… there was something… kind there, helpful.

"What is his name? Perhaps I can help you out?"

"Braska," he said after a moment's hesitation.

Suddenly, a well-built, balding man turned around with a seething glare, snarling, his eyes burning into Auron's.

"Did you just say Braska?"

"Yes," said Auron proudly, a little nervous, but suddenly anxious and excited. This man knew. He stomped over to Auron and put his face in his, his teeth bared.

"That bastard's run off with my sister!" he nearly screamed. "I trusted him!"

"Your sister?!" he cried. Then it hit him; "Kahdma!"
"How do you know her name?"

Auron figured he should be completely honest at this point.

"Braska's parents said that during his peace mission, the last person anyone had seen him with was her. They think she kidnapped him."

"Why should we kidnap some brat from Bevelle? He's no use to us!"

"He was on a mission of peace. How else could he go missing?"

"Mission of peace?" He spat. "I know Braska's parents; they keep coming here, crying on about 'peace' and 'acceptance.' If they want to practice what they preach why'd they accuse us of taking their kid?"

Auron shook his head sadly.

"Because they're rich."

"If we kidnapped Braska we would've sent a ransom note, don't you think?"

"You seem to know an awful lot about this," Auron snapped.

"You think I had something to do with it? My sister's gone missing with that religious bastard, you think I'd want to touch something that foul?"

"A likely story!"

"Please, gentlemen, please," Rin intervened, holding his hands between them. "Auron, we are actually on a mission to find Kahdma. Perhaps, if we find her, we will be able to find your friend as well, and they can explain to us what exactly has happened, not just cry baseless accusations," he finished, giving each of them a reprimanding glare.

They backed off, staring at each other in mutual dislike.

"You'd better pray to your Yevon that my sister's still alive," he spat.

"You'd better hope Braska's not hurt, either."

They spent the rest of the trip to Bikanel in silent, seething fury.