Part 3. Unforgiven
Disclaimers still apply.
I've decided to take a bit of a weird approach to Tidus's character, and I hope you like it, anyway. More time has passed for him than any of the other Cosmos warriors since the end of Dissidia due to the events of X-2. Er, and I have not played FFX-2 yet and only collected my information from Wikis. Just saying.
The ball rebounded off the other player and hurtled back toward him, and he slammed it upward, water spraying as it burst through the surface above. He kicked his legs hard, and he soared up, the roar of the crowd becoming deafening as he streaked out of the water into the blinding sunlight. Using his arms as a pivot, he curled around, wind whistling past his ears and cradling the arch of his back, and he brought his leg down as the ball reached the apex of its climb.
It drove through the water, bubbles foaming in its wake as it streaked towards the goal like a comet.
The noise was like a solid pressure now, sending his head buzzing.
"Goooooooal!"
He dove back into the sphere pool, his teammates' hands reaching out and slapping him on the shoulders, on the ass, wherever they could reach, and the announcer's voice came clearly to them through the water.
"And it's another amazing goal by the Zanarkands' ace, Tidus the Cyclone! Ladies and gentlemen, the Zanarkand Abes have dominated this match, no doubt thanks to Tidus's devastating Jecht Shot. The son of Jecht certainly seems to have something to prove in this match, especially with his father watching on—"
Tidus gasped, and he choked, water streaming into his lungs.
He swam up, arms flying everywhere, no sign of the confident, controlled ace left as he struggled to break the water surface.
And then there was fresh air around him, and he hacked until he thought his throat was bleeding, water streaming down his chin and neck.
Looking around wildly, he saw it, the enormous mass of something like water, hovering over the bleachers closest to the sea. It hung like a tidal wave stopped in time, and the sounds around him muffled out as if his ears were stuffed with cotton, and it was just him, staring at it.
It was looking back at him.
Then it surged forward, and the rest of the world slammed back with the crunch of breaking bleachers, toppling buildings, and the screams of the people caught in the way.
No.
No, it was gone. Jecht was the last. He had to be!
"Tidus!"
Yuna's voice.
He spun around, treading water, peering at the ground far below.
There. A blur of white and indigo whirled into focus, and she was there, arms stretched out towards him, fear etched across her face.
"Tidus!" she screamed again.
He struggled, pushing himself out of the water and diving for her, reaching for her hands as white, cold water pounded over his body and his vision swam.
Sin loomed over them, casting a heavy black shadow, and he stretched out even further, his fingertips almost brushing hers.
"Tidus!"
Tidus jerked, arms coming up and throwing out in a wild punch reflexively.
He connected with nothing but air, and it wasn't until he sat, hunched over and gasping for breath, that he noticed the hands gripping his forearm tightly.
He looked around at the simple cabin, swaying with the ship as it swelled with the waves, at the colourful fabric beneath him on the bed and tangled around his legs, and he looked up into Yuna's worried eyes.
"Are you okay, Tidus?"
Tidus took in a shaky breath and wiped away the sweat stinging in his eyes. "Yeah," he said finally. "Sorry, bad dream."
"You've been having a lot of them, lately, haven't you?"
He shrugged, shook his head, and he smiled at her. "Hey, you were going to talk to the New Yevon, right? What did Baralai say when you told him you wanted to visit the villages outside of Luca, as well?"
Yuna covered her mouth to muffle her giggles. "He was horrified!"
Tidus pulled the sheet away from its strangle-hold around his legs and scooted over to let her sit on the bed beside him.
"He gave me that look—"
"You mean this look?" Tidus furrowed his eyebrows and scowled so hard his eyes crossed.
"That's the one. He insisted on sending an armed escort with me, and when I said I was going with you as my bodyguard, he said—" Yuna paused here to clear her throat and deepen her voice, "'High Summoner Yuna, we agreed to take you and your sphere hunter friends to Luca on our ship because of the calming influence of your presence during our summit with the Youth League, yet you persist in these reckless pursuits. When will you learn the decorum required for your position?' and then he sighed and waved me away, saying that I could go as long as you did your job right." Yuna cocked her head and smiled. "He really believes in your strength, just like Brother."
Tidus scoffed. "In my utter terror of disobeying him and getting that look again, more likely."
She laughed, soft and sweet, "No matter the reason, they trust you. As do I. Thank you for coming with me."
He braced his hands behind his head and leaned back. "Don't thank me, yet. Wait until the villagers give you dirty looks for having someone as 'uncouth' as me around." He huffed. "You really care about them, don't you?"
Yuna smiled warmly. "Yes. They are in the middle of repairs in the wake of the last battle. After... after everything that happened, I should be there with them."
"Even though most of them think you should summon Valefor and give those 'interfering, machina-loving youngsters' a sound thrashing?"
"They're... set in their ways. They're not bad people, Tidus."
"Well," Tidus leaned his forehead against Yuna's, "I'm glad you're the one dealing with them, then. I wouldn't be able to tell."
She tilted her head a bit, and warm breath washed over his lips when she laughed. "And maybe that's what I like about you."
Her eyes slid shut, and she leaned into him when he kissed her. She sighed softly, opening her mouth to him as he pushed her gently back onto the bed.
Tidus hissed, pulling back sharply at the stabs of pain in his arm. He clamped a hand over it quickly, before Yuna saw the pyrefly looping slowly over his skin.
"What's wrong?"
"Sorry," Tidus said. "I, ah, slept on my arm funny, and it's gone completely to sleep on me."
Yuna didn't look entirely convinced, but before she could protest, a flurry of movement echoed over their heads, footsteps resounding through the wood of the ship.
"We must have reached Luca," Yuna said, standing reluctantly. "I'm sorry; I have to go greet the Youth League's emissaries with Brother."
Tidus waved off her apology. "They're probably going to start a fistfight if you're not there. You'd better get up there quickly."
Yuna nodded. She hesitated for a moment, and then she pressed a quick kiss to his temple and darted out of the cabin.
Tidus sighed, the smile dropping off of his face and his head falling back against the wall with a thunk. He resented this. This... half life. He knew what he was. He was practically an unsent, formed through the thoughts of the Fayth when they gathered up his pyreflies again, and the Fayth could see everything he did. Didn't thatmake his daily ablutions awkward. The Fayth didn't like it when he got too close to Yuna. It was so obvious. And when they got upset, he... dissolved. He didn't know how else to describe it. Maybe the Fayth lost focus, or maybe they were doing it on purpose to punish him; either way, the pains would hit him, and the pyreflies would drift away.
He felt a savage feeling of victory flicker through him. He had gotten much better at manipulating the pyreflies, though, and he could pull them back in now. He found it was easiest when he was angry, when the pyreflies seemed to become sluggish and amenable to his will.
He watched a speck of light, wavering and wisping, come through wall and hover over him. Slowly, it sank down, casting its weak glow onto his chest in the filtered daylight in the cabin.
And wasn't it easy to be angry. It filled him until it seemed like all he had inside him was rage, running through his veins, pumping through his heart. They had him on the ends of their strings. He was their puppet. None of his decisions were his own, not when the Fayth held the shears, pressing down on the strings that kept him tied to this world. They could disperse him at a whim if he wasn't behaving the model guard, and for that, he hatedthem.
The pyrefly vanished under his skin, and he felt new strength flowing through him.
Scrubbing at his face, Tidus stood. Lucans thought of him as something of a hero, if not because of the startling victory the Besaid Aurochs had pulled off with him as their star forward, then definitely after the truth of Yeven and Sin came out. They expected him to smile and shake hands.
Tidus ruffled his hands through his hair, and he stepped out into the sun.
The villages would be swallowed by Luca proper sooner or later, but for now, Tidus glanced around absently, scanning the splashes of colour decorating the small huts, the deep green of the forests around them, and the warmth wafting out of the stone paving beneath his feet. There was a small fountain in the centre of the village, and Yuna stood in front of it, surrounded by fawning supplicants on all sides.
Tidus crossed his arms, trying to look as imposing as possible as he watched out for anything that may threaten Yuna.
The Caladbolg shimmered blue like deep sea at his hip—he loved the colour, and he thought sometimes that maybe it was blue like that just for him—and he tried not to look bored. The village was filled with the elderly and small children. The rest of the populace were in Luca, either working or having abandoned the little village for life in the city. Yuna could probably beat off any threats from these people with her eyes closed.
The crowd was growing, and Tidus stood up straighter, a hand falling to his sword.
There were soldiers at the edges of the crowd, wearing no colours that he recognized. They all had the same blank look on their faces, and they moved oddly, feet dragging as if being pulled forward more than being lifted up.
Clamping down on the rising sense of dread, Tidus shoved through the crowd, ignoring the indignant shouts, and he stopped in front of Yuna, an arm held up to bar her against the fountain behind them. He stared around at the soldiers, and they sped up, drawing their swords as they bore down on him and Yuna. The village people scattered, shrieks ringing through the air, and Tidus ran forward to meet the crush of blades.
He leaned back to avoid a slash to the chest, bringing a leg up in front to plant it solidly into a soldier's breastplate. Kicking up with the other leg, he swung around, Caladbolg knocking free several upraised swords while his boot slammed into the sides of their heads.
Their armour clanked as they collapsed to the ground in a cloud of dust, but the soldiers rolled up again immediately, their eyes vacant as they struck at Tidus viciously.
Tidus slashed across the back of one soldier's wrist, and blood ran down the hilt of the soldier's sword, rolling off the guard into the dust, but the soldier didn't flinch.
Another was rushing at him, and Tidus dropped to the ground, bringing his leg around in a scything sweep. The soldier was lifted off his feet and flew sideways to clatter to the ground, accompanied by the crunch of breaking bone as his leg impacted on a bad angle.
And Tidus watched in horror as the soldier dragged himself to his feet, a hint of white bone visible in tears in the soft fabric covering his legs.
Puppets, he thought. They were being controlled and driven past the limits of their bodies.
He glanced around hurriedly. Their ultimate target was probably Yuna.
Another soldier went down briefly to a heavy gash on his leg that should have severed his hamstring, but he pulled himself up again, legs still moving despite the foot turned out and dragging like dead weight on the ground.
He charged Tidus now, sword hacking down towards Tidus's neck, and Tidus backed away hurriedly and almost tripped over a soldier leaning over to snatch up his fallen sword. Tidus fought wildly to regain his balance, he shouted, and he thrust forward with the Caladbolg.
His sword crunched through the soldier's ribcage. Scalding blood surged out, splattering over Tidus's hand in hard spurts, and the soldier went limp.
The soldier had slid off the Caladbolg and sagged to the ground before the screaming began. He thought it was the villagers at first, but it was too close, echoing through his head. It overpowered him, and he sank to the ground helplessly as the roar of noise continued, making him see blinding white. He barely felt it when the soldier behind him, having recovered his sword, ran it through his side.
Forcing his eyes to stay open, he thought he saw Yuna's mouth moving, shouting at him, but he couldn't hear what she was saying. She was running toward him now, a gun in one hand and the other glowing with healing magic.
Pyreflies burst from his body, spinning and shooting away into the sky, and Yuna skidded to a halt. She reached out a hand, but the stream of pyreflies sped up, whipping around as if in a phantom wind now, and she hurriedly backed away. The outward flow stuttered and stopped.
The Fayth! Tidus thought he would howl with rage. It was the Fayth! Their scream rang still in his head, dying raggedly when Yuna backed away even further, spurred by the grimace on his face.
His blood was hot and sticky under his body, and Tidus tried to move his sword, to push himself to his feet. Yuna!
He had to save Yuna!
Move!
Black flames erupted in a flowing pillar somewhere to his left, roaring by and curving around him, blasting through the strange soldiers, still standing eerily silent around him. Tiny flames licked at the blackened ground after the pillar had blown out, and the soldiers hadn't even left ashes behind.
Gleaming white approached him, and a hand reached out towards him. His vision swam violently then, and went black.
The first thing he noticed was the pain.
Tidus moaned, clutching at his side, but the skin was tender to the touch, and he pulled his hand away quickly. Magic healing was fast, but it had its drawbacks.
Hands grabbed his shoulders when he tried to sit up, and they pushed him down onto his back firmly.
"You shouldn't be moving yet."
Tidus cracked an eye open. It wasn't Yuna's voice. It wasn't even a voice he thought he'd ever hear on Spira.
Snow white hair had fallen over violet eyes that were deeply shadowed against pale skin.
"You look like you haven't slept in days, Cecil," Tidus croaked.
"You're one to talk," Cecil said, sitting back and putting his hands on his knees. "You look terrible."
"I feel terrible." He tried to sit up again, and this time, Cecil helped him up despite an exasperated sigh. Tidus accepted the mug of water Cecil offered. "Where's Yuna?" he asked sharply.
"She's fine. She decided to remain in the other room."
"Oh." That meant the Fayth were probably still upset at him.
"You know that glowing orbs of light leap from your body when she approaches?"
"Yeah. It's because the guys that made me are trying to break me down again. They want to keep me away from her."
"Why?" Yuna said from the doorway.
Tidus winced. Her face was drawn with worry and fear.
"Why did the Fayth scream so loudly earlier? Why won't they let me get close? I can't even heal you!" Her voice had gotten steadily higher until the last word was a ragged shriek.
Tidus looked down at his hands. Cecil must have cleaned them. He felt his stomach roil, imagining Cecil wiping away the residue.
"I killed someone, Yuna," he said. The words bit at him like knives. "The Fayth hate that. They hate me."
"You had to! They were going to kill you!"
"I don't think that matters."
Yuna was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again, her voice was hard. "Guardians have killed to protect summoners, before. It's not that rare. It has to be something else. There has to be a reason." She turned, fists clenched at her side. "I'm going to talk to them. There has to be something else."
Tidus listened to her boots scuff the floor as she headed out of the room.
He swung his legs off the bed, waving aside Cecil's protests. He closed his eyes, concentrated on the anger simmering below the surface inside him, and he fed it, piece by piece.
They try to control him. They tried to kill him. They hurt Yuna.
He felt them, tiny points of energy, and their glow played over his eyelids. Cecil gasped beside him, and he opened his eyes. The room was filled with pyreflies, swirling around like a funnel cloud in front of him. He had never seen so many before. Then again, he had never lost so many before, either.
Tidus stepped into the storm of pyreflies, and they settled on him like a suit of armour, prickling lightly, before they sank under his skin.
"What was that?"
Tidus waved his hands and smiled crookedly. "They're like the energy of Spira. I was just healing myself."
"Healing?"
"Yep! I'm strong as a horse now."
His pumped his arm, and his exuberance seemed to calm Cecil. It wasn't that surprising. It was all that he showed to his friends during the war, after all. But a lot had happened since then, since he found himself floating offshore of Besaid after what seemed like eons of nothing while his pyreflies drifted sluggishly throughout Spira. He told Yuna that he didn't remember what it was like, to be scattered like that, and it was true, really. He didn't remember anything beyond a feeling of loneliness.
Cecil sucked in a sharp breath next to him, and he rushed to the small window of the hut, peering out.
"What?" Tidus asked. Cecil was already tearing outside, looking as if he'd seen a ghost.
Tidus followed, skidded a bit when he doubled back to retrieve his sword, and he dashed out, chasing the path he thought he remembered the edge of Cecil's white cape taking. He had asked Cecil once whether the cape got in the way when he was fighting, and Cecil had laughed and said he hadn't thought about it, and that Rosa made his clothes. He said—
The black armour, embellished with blue and gold, looked out of place in the small village square filled with bright colours.
Cecil had his arms thrown out, and he was leaning earnestly towards Golbez. "But brother—!"
"Do not be stupid, Cecil. You are stronger than I. I am ashamed of your repeated obsession with collecting useless people—" Here Tidus was surethat Golbez had given him a nasty look. "—around you—"
"I am strongestwhen I am together with my friends," Cecil said sharply.
Golbez didn't respond, but Tidus saw him sag a bit, as if in acceptance.
"And I would like to include you among their number," his brother said.
Golbez was silent for a long while. "You have become a fine leader, Cecil," he said finally. "I will follow you." His voice hardened in warning, then. "You are no longer a child, and I will not treat you as such."
"I am grateful for your belief in me, brother, and I will not let you down."
The atmosphere was still heavy, though, and Tidus laced his hands behind his head and sauntered slowly towards Golbez. "So, yeah, welcome to the team, Golbez!" he said cheerfully. "I'm sure we'll make a good story together. Or hey, should I call you Theodor from now on?" Violet eyes turned to him under the heavy mask, and they were positively glacial. Tidus stepped away and resisted the urge to move closer to Cecil.
Okay, 'Golbez' it was, then.
Tidus staggered, pins prickling over his body, and one or two pyreflies managed to wisp away.
There was a scuffling noise behind him and a clatter. He turned, and Yuna looked back at him, eyes dark with pain. "Sorry," she said. She had backed away hurriedly, it looked like, and knocked over a bucket.
Tidus shook his head. "I'm fine."
"Interesting." Golbez crossed his arms, looking first at him, and then Yuna. "You disintegrate when your woman approaches?"
Tidus scratched the back of his head, laughing awkwardly. "Yeah... It's a bit of a funny story."
"The Fayth won't tell me why they're doing this to you," Yuna said quietly. "They've never refused to speak to me outright like this, before."
"I fear the actions of these Fayth speak of a personal vendetta," Cecil said.
Oh good, so he wasn't just paranoid.
"What are we going to do?"
Tidus turned to Yuna. "I'll go find the Fayth. I'll speak to them personally."
Yuna nodded, and her face crumpled. "I can't go with you, can I?"
Tidus steeled himself, pulling himself tight, and he stepped toward Yuna. The pain started again, and he saw his arms glimmering a bit as pyreflies struggled to escape, but he held on. He held up a hand to Yuna, forcing his legs to walk forward, and it felt as if he was heading into a strong wind.
"What are you doing?" Yuna cried.
"I promise I will be back." Tidus said, trying to reach her still. "I promise I will come back to you."
"Stop!"
"Nothing the Fayth do can keep me from you."
There were tear-tracks on her face now, and she nodded hard, her eyes squeezed shut.
"Hey," Tidus said, "Laugh with me. We'll stand at the edge of a cliff and let it out, just like before."
He was losing control of the pyreflies, but he was so close. Her hand reached up, almost touching his. His skin felt like it was boiling. He was almost there.
Yuna snatched her hand back. Then, something beautiful and strong in her eyes, she smiled, she whirled around, and she ran away.
Tidus sagged, the ripping feeling gone. He glanced at Cecil, who had come up behind him, and was looking at him with sad eyes. "Ah, sorry," he said. And because he hated those eyes, that look ("poor boy, losing both his father and mother in quick succession..."), he put his hands on his hips and jutted his chest out. "Well, what are we waiting for?" he said loudly, grinning when Cecil jumped. "The floating ruins of the Fayth are on top of Mt. Gagazet. Let's check them out!"
Tidus dragged a pillow over his head to muffle his groan, and he burrowed further under the covers of his bunk as clatters and thuds filled their airship cabin. If he had known it would be like this, he would have suggested that they walk. Then maybe those two would be too tired to insist on rising at Shiva-awful times like the crack of dawn. Then again, given what he knew of soldiers' discipline... (He shuddered at the memory of Cloud, who had taken one look at him during a fight, decided that his "footwork was deplorable", and had taken Tidus under his wing and roused him while it was still dark every morning to work on sword drills with him.)
When the whispered argument about whether to wake him started—he always knew Golbez was a sadistic jerk—he gave up and dragged himself out of bed. He was a morning person, he really was, but this was ridiculous.
"We approach Mt. Gagazet this morning, do we not?" Golbez said over breakfast.
Tidus had stared so much the first time he'd removed his helmet, he'd forgotten to eat.
"Yeah, we should dock at its base before noon."
"Why does this ship not simply fly up to the fortress atop this mountain?"
"It's still considered something of a sacred place. The people who live on the mountain, the Ronsos..." Tidus fumbled for words for a while before giving up. "Augh, you'll see when you meet them."
True to his prediction, the travellers met the ends of Ronso spears at the gates of the mountain path before a heavily scarred Ronso he didn't recognize stepped forward to give them a menacing stare.
"State business," he said. Tidus tried not to picture the man barking like a dog.
"We need to speak to the Fayth—"
"Humans have no business seeking Fayth."
He could see Golbez shifting to free his sword from the folds of his cape out of the corner of his eye. Cecil lifted a hand out in front of Golbez's chest, and he paused. Tidus weighed his odds of escaping before being flattened between Golbez and the looming Ronso.
"Such blatant xenophobia is not fitting of proud Ronso race, Kelik," a new voice said, hard and sharp.
Tidus nearly sagged with relief.
Kimahri stood nearly a head shorter than the scarred Ronso, but the other guards didn't hesitate before lowering their spears. After a moment, Kelik stepped back, turning to face Kimahri and lowering his eyes.
"Yes, Elder."
"This man brought Eternal Calm to Spira as guardian to High Summoner Yuna. He has more right to speak to Fayth than any other."
Kelik and the other guards bowed slightly and moved aside to flank the gates.
Kimahri kept his hard stare on Kelik as he waved a hand at Tidus. "Come, Tidus. I will take you up past second gate."
Loping along behind Kimahri's long stride, he thought he might have heard Cecil murmuring his thanks the guards, and Golbez snorted.
Kimahri turned to Tidus when he judged them out of earshot of the guards, and he said, "Forgive them. We were attacked two days ago by strange human soldiers. They are wary."
"We were attacked by them, too, outside Luca!" Tidus said, surprised. "Maybe they were the same group of soldiers."
Kimahri shook his head. "Attacks are happening all over Spira. They attack and raid. Foraging parties."
"Foraging for who, then? Who's in command of them?"
"Ronso do not know." Kimahri turned his head and eyed Cecil and Golbez. "Your friends do not smell of completely human. Nor do soldiers."
Tidus waved his hand at the delicate question. "This is Cecil Harvey and his brother Golbez, and it's true they're from somewhere else. The soldiers are probably from another world outside of Spira, too, and it's possible that they came from the same place as those two, but they're not together. I trust them."
Kimahri gave him a doubtful look, but then he nodded. "Very well. You have good instincts."
They had passed through the Ronso settlement and under a second set of gates now. The guards eyed them distrustfully, but made no move to bar their way.
Kimahri pointed up the mountain track, splashed white with snow. "Follow path to summit. Ruins of the Fayth lie above clouds." He dropped his hand heavily onto Tidus's shoulder. "You seek answers to strangers entering Spira?"
Tidus shrugged. "I'll find out what I can."
Kimahri nodded, and stepped back. "Go well."
The Ronso settlement dropped out of sight quickly, and the path steepened. Tidus was wheezing a bit at the abrupt altitude shift when Cecil dropped into a guard stance, hand on sword.
"Something's here."
The Caladbolg felt heavy and comforting in his hand as Tidus peered about the snow-covered brush, and when two Takouba skittered out onto the path and tried to flank them, he felt an odd sense of relief. Fiends. Fiends he could deal with.
He leapt up, flipping in the air, and brought his sword down like a guillotine, its shearing noise accompanied by the crunch of chitin. Fiends didn't cover his hands with blood.
The Takouba collapsed in a heap of legs, and behind him, Tidus saw Golbez pull an arm back and clench his fist. The other fiend burst into flames and evaporated with a shriek.
"Pitiful," Golbez said, swinging his cape back dramatically and stalking up the path, ignoring the last few tongues of flame hissing in the snow.
Cecil caught his eye and smiled, rolling his own slightly, and Tidus muffled a snicker.
They were attacked a few more times by low-level fiends by the time the ruins stretched high over their heads, and Tidus had begun to relax. The hymn of the Fayth echoed soothingly. The Fayth were inside, then, singing gently.
Tidus pushed open the heavy doors, and they ground along the floor unsteadily.
Just inside, he stopped. A boy was watching him with fearful eyes, and he dashed away quickly when Tidus raised a hand to greet him.
"Wait!"
Cecil frowned after the boy. "That child?"
"He's one the Fayth. Bahamut, actually." Tidus crossed his arms and scowled. "He's never looked scared of me, before."
"You!" A man dressed as a crusader ran into the hall and stopped well away from him, pointing a sword at his neck. "How dare you enter this place!"
Bewildered, Tidus backed away. "What did I do? Why are you all afraid of me?"
"As well they should be," said a voice, contempt dripping like oil. An old man clumped into the hall, leaning heavily on a tall staff. The old man, a Fayth Tidus thought probably unassociated with an Aeon, came to a stop behind the Fayth of Ifrit, eyeing Tidus blackly. "Should they not be afraid, when you are well on your way to becoming what we spent so long trying to defeat?"
"I'm what?"
"You are assembling pyreflies, feeding your power with your anger and hatred. You suck in pyreflies and use them to form armour around your soul, just like the firstSin."
His stomach dropped out under him. Tidus felt sick. He could feel them. The pyreflies inside him, buzzing angrily like hornets.
"You saturate yourself with evil." The old Fayth's voice was rising. "You create Sin with your every thought, and yet you dareto prey upon the power of the High Summoner Yuna?"
There was something in the Fayth's voice that clicked. Tidus gaped.
"Are you jealous? You're in love with Yuna?"
The Fayth's scowl became thunderous. "How dare you..."
"You are! You're the one who's been trying to pull me apart everytime I touch her!"
"The elder is correct to separate the High Summoner and something as vile as Sin!" Ifrit's Fayth cut in with a snarl.
"That's ridiculous! I never needed to pull pyreflies into me before your elder there started wrenching them from me!"
The old Fayth pulled himself up, raising his staff with black rage painted all over his face. "And now you use your powers to bring alien beings into this world and occupy the sacred ruins of Zanarkand with an army of heretics!"
"What are you talkingabout?"
"I will stop you now, before all of Spira is ravaged by your black power!"
Light blasted out of the top of the staff, and the pyreflies inside Tidus roared and wrenched out, streaming from his body like shrapnel from an explosion.
He was probably screaming. He couldn't hear.
Cecil looked furious, drawing his sword and dashing towards the old Fayth, his mouth moving and shouting something. The Fayth lowered his staff quickly, sending the light crashing into him, and Cecil hunched over as if in pain.
Tidus thought he saw Golbez running, reaching out to Cecil, and then the world went white, and it blinked out.
When Tidus opened his eyes, he thought he was floating.
He whirled around, seeing endless grey stretching in all directions, broken only by the glimmer of arcing pyreflies.
"The Farplane," he said to himself, feeling hollow.
"Where are we?"
Cecil was hovering beside him, his image oddly solid against the flickering limbo.
Tidus swallowed. "The Farplane," he repeated. "The centre of Spira, where the departed souls go."
Cecil seemed to digest this for a while. "We're dead?"
"It's... hard to say," Tidus said slowly. "I don't feel any pyrefly energy from you. It's possible that you've been sent here physically by the Fayth." He nodded at Golbez, floating a short distance away. "Both of you. As for me..." He paused. "Well, I was never really alive to begin with."
"Hmph," a voice behind him growled. "You crying again?"
His heart leapt up into his throat, and Tidus spun around.
He looked the same as ever, scars and tattoos standing out so sharply against the grey around him. Jecht narrowed his eyes, eyeing him critically.
"Have you been eating enough, boy? Maybe if you weren't so damn skinny, you wouldn't be such a crybaby."
Tidus closed his eyes tiredly. "Shut up, dad. I'm not crying." He felt a smile creep onto his lips.
Jecht grunted. "What happened? Ya bite the dust again?"
"The Fayth sent me here. They stripped away the pyreflies they gave me," Tidus's voice went a little hoarse, "because I was turning into Sin."
"The hell? Why would you do something like that?"
"I was angry!" Tidus shouted. He paused, and he scrubbed his forehead furiously as his eyes prickled. Dammit, he wasn't going to cry. He sighed. "I was... I don't know. I was stupid."
"So ya think you're not stupid anymore?"
Tidus took in a breath, prepared to argue, but he saw the oddly piercing look in Jecht's eyes, and he stopped. "Less stupid than before," he said.
"Tch." Jecht rubbed his ragged hair and mumbled, "Stupid kid."
He rolled a shoulder nonchalantly. "Yo, Golbez. What are youdoing in the Farplane? And you brought your kid brother, too."
Golbez crossed his arms and scowled back. "Hmph. It seems our worlds have begun merging after the war. Someone else has crossed over to your world as well, and they are laying waste to the land."
Jecht made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. "I thought they said we'd all go home when it was all over," he grumbled. "Ah, well, nothing doing. We'd better go save the world again." He swung his sword a few times. "I'm getting too old for this."
"What? What do you mean we'll go save the world?" Tidus stared at his father. "We're stuck in the Farplane!"
Jecht eyed him like he was an extra large cockroach. "You of all people should be able to see it."
"See what?"
Jecht pointed a scarred hand. "The light! It's the way out!"
Tidus looked at the white glow on the horizon, eyes wide.
"Come on, boy, get with it. Make yourself a new body, and let's get outta here."
Resisting the urge to give his father a fat lip, Tidus closed his eyes and felt for his pyreflies. Just the ones that belonged to him, he thought. No more. And he began pulling them inwards.
They emerged in Guadosalam, and Tidus barely recognized what had once been a living, breathing palace faintly lit by glowing magic-bright orbs. Now, artificial light blazed, a machina snake whirred by, and Tidus thought he'd jumped a foot into the air.
"Once a wuss..." Jecht muttered behind him, and Tidus glared fiercely.
A member of the LeBlanc syndicate walked by, froze, and did a double take. "Hey," he said, "aren't you—?"
Jecht pushed past the befuddled man casually. "So sorry for dropping in unannounced. We'll just see ourselves out, yeah?"
They hurried out of the manor, ignoring the bewildered looks of several LeBlanc people.
"I guess some of them are still staying here, even after LeBlanc moved out," Tidus said, mostly to himself.
"Who are all these kids, anyway?" Jecht demanded. "Where are the Guado?"
Tidus thought for a moment, and he shook his head, pressing on into the perpetual twilight. "A lot has changed since your time, old man," he said.
Jecht scowled at him, and Tidus rested his hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Do you have a destination in mind?" Golbez interjected with surprising tact, speaking rapidly.
Tidus shrugged. "The Fayth mentioned an army in Zanarkand. Might as well start there." He turned his face north, still feeling Jecht's eyes on him, and he sighed. It was going to be a long trip.
Tidus stretched, feeling every bone in his body pop back into place after being jarred into soup on the back of a chocobo.
They tethered the birds to some trees and left Golbez tending to them (he had turned out to be surprisingly good with the animals, and he muttered something about a ranch back home), and Cecil portioned out some travel rations and jerky obtained from the LeBlanc syndicate members, who had been only too happy to see them go. Jecht had said it was because they knew what was good for them, but Tidus secretly thought it was because they knew just as well as he did that wherever he went, trouble was soon to follow.
They'd made good time, though, and had stopped for the night in the Calm Lands.
Jecht plopped down beside him, resting his arms on his massive sword, and he stared off into the distance awkwardly.
Tidus looked at Cecil, and in spite his frantic attempts at telepathic communication, the paladin gave him what looked suspiciously like a smirk, and he stood up, patted his hands off, and announced loudly that he was going to take the first watch. Tidus watched him walk off. Cecil resembled his brother a good deal, sometimes, he thought bitterly.
Jecht cleared his throat like an ominous rumble of thunder.
Tidus bit back a sigh, and he stared at the ground. He closed his eyes, felt inside him, and smiled, satisfied that there was no longer any trace of the Fayth's hold over his pyreflies.
"Ya keeping well, then?" Jecht said.
Tidus thought about this a bit. "I'm fine. Officially I'm Yuna's full-time bodyguard."
"She'll keep you on your toes," Jecht said, his voice oddly warm.
"She says she keeps me out of trouble as much as the other way around."
Jecht laughed, throwing back his head and looking at him sideways. "She's a good girl. Braska would be proud."
Tidus felt an answering smile creep up.
"You keep her happy, yeah?"
"Yeah, I will."
Jecht cleared his throat again, a bit of a constipated look on his face, and Tidus watched him suspiciously.
"I, er, ya know. I'm proud of you, too," Jecht mumbled, after a couple of false starts.
Tidus smiled, still looking at the ground.
Jecht waved a hand wildly. "Egh, I'm no good at this stuff." He turned his face away from Tidus resolutely, and Tidus grinned. The silence that followed was comfortable. There were still lots of things, hanging in midair, that should be said, but he had a feeling that Jecht already knew what all of them were.
Jecht glanced at him sharply, then. "So, do I have any grandkids, yet?"
Tidus blushed so hard he thought his ears were steaming, and Jecht laughed over his helpless splutters.
Cecil's voice cut through Jecht's laughter, sharp as a knife. "Trouble!"
Tidus was on his feet, sword in hand, in an instant. His heart pounding, he looked down the rolling plains at the group of a dozen or so soldiers marching towards them, blades bared, and not even attempting to conceal their approach.
"That's more like it!" Jecht said, loosening a shoulder and hefting his sword. "I'll send them crying back to their mamas!"
He charged, and Tidus followed, Cecil at his shoulder.
Jecht met the soldiers with a deafening clang, sending a few of them staggering back. They attacked again immediately, though, moving in the jerky motion of puppets. Jecht cursed, and he responded with crushing kicks and bludgeoning blows, and the soldiers that went down did not get back up.
Cecil was in his dark knight form, and he stabbed forward, spitting a soldier on his blade, before kicking the limp body off and pulling back to slash through an exposed neck.
They had to kill them. Tidus knew this. The puppet soldiers would not stop until they were dead.
Two of the soldiers bore down on Tidus, and he stared. His feet felt rooted to the ground, and he glanced down at his shaking blade, held in a death-grip in both hands in front of him.
He couldn't do it, he thought. The soldiers raised their swords to hack into him, and the panic set in.
He couldn't move.
Suddenly, the soldiers faltered, stumbling a step. Tidus blinked, and they were cleaved almost in half across their spines in front of him.
"What are you doing, boy?" Jecht roared in his face, and Tidus flinched, his hands flexing around the hilt of the Caladbolg.
Whatever had afflicted the soldiers was gone now, and they surged up, aiming for Jecht's bare back.
Tidus flipped over Jecht's head, his sword biting down into the spine at the back of one of the soldier's necks, and he kicked out with his right leg, landing a blow against the side of another's head with enough force that he heard the sharp crack.
Ducking down under a vicious swipe, Tidus caught Jecht's eye for a fraction of a second, and he spun and slashed up, deep into the soldier's now open chest.
Tidus fought back to back with his father, and he thought that Cecil was wrong. This didn't get any easier at all.
Zanarkand stretched before them, looking strangely clean without the blood red sunset cast over it.
Kimahri had been surprised to see them again when they appeared at the bottom of Mt. Gagazet without having descended from the top, and with a new comrade in tow. Tidus managed to convince him that they had found out the source of the raids, and they were hurrying to stop them. The other story would have to wait. Kimahri had shaken his head, but he'd let them go.
They scaled the mountain path again, making sure to give the Fayth a wide berth, and practically snuck down the other side.
"Soldiers!" Cecil hissed, and they had their swords out and their backs to each other, glancing around warily at the ring of men facing them.
One of them was wearing an old crusades uniform, Tidus noticed, and his mouth dropped open.
"Wait! Wait!" He stepped forward, waving his hands and dropping his sword. "They're not with the foreign soldiers! These are people of Spira!"
He saw a face he recognized.
"Brother!"
The Al Bhed and ostensible leader of the Gullwings had already lowered his weapons. "Eyyy, Tidus! Good to see you!"
A mutter went through the soldiers, and their swords wavered a bit, but remained pointing in their general direction.
"Are you here to fight the weird soldiers? Is Yuna here with you?" Tidus asked rapidly.
But Yuna had already pushed through the ring of soldiers, and she paused, fear in her eyes as she scanned him for any sign of disintegration.
"Hey," Tidus said softly, reaching out and touching a lock of hair that had blown into her face. "Look, I'm all better."
"How..."
"I'm in control of my pyreflies this time, no more influence from the Fayth."
He stepped forward, folding her into his arms, and she fit comfortably under his chin. Her hands clutched in his vest. Tidus blinked furiously. He wasn't going to cry, although he thought Jecht might let this occasion go if he did.
Yuna was peeking over his shoulder, and she gasped. "Sir Jecht!"
"Hey, kid. You've all grown up."
She pulled back, staring up at Tidus. "What happened?"
"Eh... well... It's really a long story..."
There was a scuffling sound near the back of a group of people, and the men hurriedly shuffled aside to clear a path for what looked like a walking arsenal.
"Firion?"
"Tidus?" Firion looked just as surprised as he was. "Cecil!"
"What are you doing here? Are you in charge of these soldiers?"
Firion frowned, glanced at Jecht and Golbez, and seemed to take it all in stride. He shrugged. "I'm not sure how I got here. There was another pressure like the ones I'd been feeling for some time now, except this one was enormous, and I blacked out. When I came to, I was in this place. It's called Spira, right?"
The soldiers looked perplexed, but they had lowered their weapons, and they nodded in agreement with a ragged murmur of "Yes, it is" and "Spira".
"Did the puppet soldiers come through with you?"
Firion's face hardened. "It's the Emperor," he said grimly. "He's crossed over here, too. He's controlling the soldiers somehow." He turned and pointed out over the sparkling water to what was left of the towering buildings of Zanarkand. "He's made his base in there, and I think he's planning to conquer this land. I'd been fighting for a while, trying to get in past all the soldiers, and then these people came. They wanted to help fight, and I thought, well, it's their country, so they have every right to be here."
"So you've been laying siege to Zanarkand ever since?"
"If you can call it that. The soldiers seem to slip past us somehow. News of raids continue coming to us every day." Firion looked up as if he'd just remembered something. "I did manage to slip into the base yesterday night, though. I wounded the Emperor, and it seemed like his hold on the soldiers wavered a bit, but by then he had sounded an alarm, and I was forced to retreat because of their huge numbers."
"That must have been what happened last night!" Cecil said. "The soldiers paused in their attack for a moment."
"So the Emperor is controlling these puppet soldiers directly," Golbez said. "It seems quite obvious what we need to do."
"Take out the king, there go the pawns," Jecht put in.
Firion's gaze flicked back and forth over them. "But I already tried—"
"And you were vastly outnumbered." Tidus grinned wide, bringing a fist up into the air. "But the five of us together... we'll be unstoppable! We can have a race; see who beats the most puppets!"
Cecil huffed a sigh behind him. "This isn't a game, Tidus."
"No," he agreed, "but Spira depends on this. On us. And this is my home." He smiled at Yuna, and she beamed at him.
Firion laughed. "Whatever the reason, it's good to have you by my side again, friends."
He held out an arm, and Tidus clasped it, feeling lighter than he had in ages.
"Tonight, then," Cecil said.
"Yeah. We'll do it tonight."
TBC – And it all comes together.