"Auron!" he cried. "Auron!"
He jumped up from his meditative pose, tense and waiting, his hand drawing to his sword instinctively. The pounding on his door and frantic cries made his heart race, his blood pump, his very soul turn to fire. He threw open the door, readying himself, but the attack came much too swiftly. He was thrown backwards onto the floor, pinned beneath a mass of choppy blue robes that was quivering and wailing…
"Braska?" he asked uncertainly.
He lifted his head to reveal a tear-streaked face, bloodshot eyes, and a pained, helpless look that made Auron's heart tear in two.
"What happened?" he asked tensely, lifting both of them up and closing the door.
"Kahdma!" he moaned, over and over. "Kahdma, Kahdma, Kahdma!"
"What?" Auron demanded, squeezing his friend's shoulders and shaking him slightly. "What about her?"
"She's dead!" he cried. "Kahdma's dead!"
Auron's heart sank even lower, and the torn-in-two feeling was replaced with pain and sheer, utter, horrifying agony. Braska's wife… the mother of his child… but… but…
"…But how?" he asked.
At this, Braska's anguished face scrunched into one of cold, seething fury, a look Auron had never seen him make before. It was frightening and moving at the same time. He bared his teeth as his lips spat the words like poison from his body.
"Sin," he hissed.
Auron knelt beside his friend, another emotion sweeping over his body – fear.
"You are sure?"
Braska nodded. "It was seen off the coast by the residents of Bikanel. Her ship… She… she was just… just going to see… him…"
"Him?" Auron asked, confused.
"Her brother," he sobbed. "They were finally going to make amends… for Yuna…"
The tears ran suddenly hot and thick down his face, flowing like twin streams of diamond liquid down past his chin, dribbling onto the floor with a soft pat. Auron placed a soft hand on his friend's shoulder, trying awkwardly to comfort, but finding no memory inside of what he was supposed to do. Suddenly, Braska threw his arms about Auron's waist, sobbing into his chest and screaming his deceased wife's name over and over and over again until it was burnt into Auron's brain as deeply as the pain he felt for his friend, smoldering there like bloody embers of a dying fire that was still too hot to touch.
"Auron," he sobbed after a few moments. He looked up into his younger friend's face. "Auron," he said, "Forgive me."
For a brief moment, he was completely taken aback, unsure of how to respond.
"Y-You're sorry?" he finally sputtered. "For what?"
Braska raised himself back onto his knees, wiping his eyes with his enormous sleeves.
"I finally understand how you feel," he said. "What it was like for you, all those years ago."
Auron suddenly understood. The memories flooded back into his brain, his heart, washing over him and filling his body with hurt, anger, fear, pain, sorrow, every emotion turning him back into the child he had worked so hard to distance himself from. He gripped his chest from the pain, squinting and looking away. He had not thought about his parents in so long… it had been so long…
"Oh, oh Auron, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…" he tried, but Auron merely shook his head.
"No, Braska, it's… it's fine." He looked over to his friend. "I just… I just hadn't… hadn't thought about it in such a long, long time."
He immediately felt guilty – how could he have forgotten his parents? Their sacrifice for him? Their loving arms, caring faces, gentle guidance? Could he even remember anymore? He sighed, shaking his head again. They sat for a few moments in complete silence, save for Braska's soft sniffling and Auron's uncomfortable shifting. Braska finally sighed and Auron looked up, curious and concerned.
"This is it, Auron. All my life I've wanted to do this, and now – this is what it takes." He looked away in disgust, ashamed of himself, unforgiving.
"What are you going to do?" he asked, an edge in his voice. He did not want Braska to hurt himself, and was worried that he might try out of sheer pain and frustration.
"No, my friend," he said, seeming to read his thoughts. "That is not the path that I meant." He breathed deeply before finishing, "I'm going to become a Summoner."
Auron's heart rose and fell in one quick, sickening swoop.
"A Summoner?" he growled.
"Yes," Braska said, matter-of-factly. He stared his friend in the eyes for a few seconds before blinking slowly and breathing in, and out, and continuing.
"Auron," he began, "When I first heard of Sin, my mother had told me about it, and my father. They said that once we all atone for our mistakes – mainly machina, and the folly of going against nature – Sin will be gone forever. That it was a Summoner's duty to make sure the people had hope for the future, for a world where their children, as I was once a child at the time, would no longer go to bed with nightmares lurking in the back of their minds. When people could build homes again, and cities, where they could dance and sing and the glory of Spira would be restored." He made a soft noise of dissent. "But how can I just wait for these things to happen? When my parents told me, even at that young an age, I knew – I knew – that I was to be destined to defeat Sin." He looked into his friend's face once more. "Auron," he said, serious.
"Yes, Braska?" His voice was barely above a whisper.
"I am going to defeat Sin. Not just for Kahdma, and not just for Yuna, and not just for you, my friend. I will defeat it for everyone."
Auron nodded, but Braska continued on his tangent.
"I will defeat it," he yelled, "So that no one," he pounded the floor with his fist, "Will ever – ever – have to go through this pain, ever again. I will defeat it, Auron," he said looking in his eyes. "I will."
The tears fell from his pained, determined face once more as Auron leaned over beside him.
"I know, Braska. I know you will." He placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Because I will be there to guard you."