Disclaimer: Anything you recognize – be it character, location, idea or line – belongs to others; I may be playing with them but I make no profit from this.
When Worlds Collide
An Unexpected Talent
To Harry's slight chagrin, learning magic had not been as easy as waving his Rod around haphazardly and just hoping something would happen.
First he'd had to learn how to feel – and evaluate, gauge, somewhat measure - his own magical energy, which had required an unexpected (at least on his part) amount of sitting still and breathing softly and just concentrating and That. Was. Hard!
He'd found himself fighting all his instincts in order to actually stay still and quiet like Lady Yuna wanted him to, struggling to meditate and 'find his centre' like she was trying to teach him.
Meanwhile, she had given him a solid introduction to what White Magic was and what it could be used to accomplish, which could be summarized in the short motto: "Heal the body, heal the heart".
While a part of Harry had been a little disappointed that he wouldn't get to blow up anything, he'd been too excited at the idea of doing magic at all to let this bring his mood down and besides, he'd been hurt enough in the past to know how awesome it would be to be able to heal himself and others, or to protect his friends from harm.
Plus, there were also what Paine had called 'strategic spells': spells to make someone faster, or slow them down, or to scan an enemy to find out any weak points… there were endless possibilities in magic, even without getting to show off some flashy blast.
So he'd worked hard and diligently, impatient to learn it all.
Even though it was a tedious process.
First Yuna would have him memorize and repeat over and over the short invocations that 'shaped' the magic.
She'd explained that when he became more expert, he would be able to make up his own, and tweak the effects for what he needed or wanted, but as a beginner, it was better to use those already tried and true.
Harry hadn't minded too much, except that some incantations were really silly. If he wanted to counteract a poison or toxin, for instance, he had to shout: 'Light shine strong. Our woe begone!', which he had a hard time saying without breaking into chuckles. Same with the 'wellspring of health' he was supposed to call out for if he wanted to lend his magic to an ally to help them gradually recover over time…
Then again, there were some spells that were rather cool. Harry's favourite so far was: 'Mirror of light, reflect magical spite!' – which was supposed to make any magic bounce off and strike back at its caster, albeit more weakly. He couldn't wait to try it out, but he wasn't quite there yet.
Because, once he had the trigger rhyme down pat, Yuna would start him on the needed gestures ('somatic component', she'd called it) and he would have to practice the movements over and over and over again, until he could flow smoothly through the whole routine, without mistakes or hesitations.
Generally, it took enough repetitions to make his muscles burn with fatigue before Yuna even considered letting him try gestures and invocations in tandem. Only then would she let him cast something in a controlled, enemy-free environment.
So far he'd learned more than she'd expected him to, but nowhere near how much he wanted!
Even if it required hard work and a lot of patience, learning magic was awesome.
He had an innate talent that had quickly shown, surprising Yuna and even Lulu with the rapidity with which he learned and most of all, with the strength of anything he cast. From what he'd understood, it usually took a lot more experience before a white mage could obtain effects as powerful as his.
Soon Yuna and the others had started taking him out in the jungle, looking for fiends he would have to help protect them from, as 'practice'.
He would never forget the first time he'd cast a spell in combat…
They'd been facing a couple of Pairikas, fiends that looked like giant triangles of indigo cloth with lightning flowing through their body and a nightmarish skull-like grin emerging from it.
Lulu and Rikku had flanked him, ready to step in if he couldn't handle it, but they'd let him take the initiative. Yuna had called out from the sidelines: "Remember, this kind of fiend mostly uses magic!"
He'd nodded, a knot of tension and excitement in his stomach. He'd felt eager and nervous all at once.
Drawing his Rod in a vertical position in front of his eyes, he'd grabbed it firmly with both hands, then bowed his head, eyes closed, for a moment, just focusing; feeling the still new sensation of his magic gathering within him, he'd released the energy with a flowing outward flip of his hands, spreading his arms only slightly: "Veil of light, ward wizardly might!" he'd called out confidently.
Immediately, bright lines of coral pink neon light had sprung into existence, curving gracefully around him until he was encased in a spherical cage of sorts, which promptly glowed brightly white and vanished to sight.
He could still feel it, though, its presence a comforting veil between him and his foe, and when the fiend had thrown a blasting lightning bolt at him, he'd barely felt it: just a mild shock dancing over his skin, while most of the blast had been safely dispersed by his Shell.
"Oh, very well!" had cried Yuna happily. "Excellent work. But this is a fundamentally lightning-based creature, which uses almost only Thundara spells. So… try to cast a spell that protects against lightning damage! … do you remember it?"
"Yes!" Harry had cried, nodding determinedly and he'd taken a deep breath, concentrating… "Shield us from thunderous bane!" he'd yelled while twirling his Rod capably and instantly, a dark yellow orb had appeared next to him, circling his body and alighting a set of smaller, whitish sparks in his trail, while at the same time, similar dark yellow orbs of magic circled Lulu and Rikku.
Rikku had cheered enthusiastically, even as Lulu's well-placed Firaga had taken the fiends down quickly.
"Very well done, Harry!" had praised Yuna, smiling.
Harry had smiled back tiredly. It had been draining… but exhilarating!
It had soon become a common occurrence for the group to spend a couple hours a day roaming the paths around the village in search of 'practice battles'.
Yuna carefully monitored Harry's efforts, helping him refine his spellcasting, while Paine and Rikku supported him, ready to protect him if things got out of hand.
Lulu had stopped accompanying them after the first time, because she'd come back to Besaid to find that Wakka and the Aurochs, who were supposed to baby-sit little Vidina, had instead indulged in an impromptu game of blitzball on the beach.
The baby was unharmed, naturally, but bawling because the men had forgotten to change him. Lulu had not been pleased.
Harry and the girls had cautiously stepped outside her line of sight, less then eager to be caught in the black mage's scathing ire… Lulu's irritated voice had followed their retreat, threatening even if it wasn't directed at them: "Okay? Okay? That's all you have to say?"
Wakka's sheepish attempts at explaining himself hadn't done much good… "Well, yeah, I mean… he just… I know he was crying, but…"
"And whose fault is that, anyway?" Lulu had cut him off angrily.
"Not mine!" had denied Wakka vehemently.
The four youngsters had looked at each other, all too easily imagining the older woman glaring icily at her husband, and had run for it, before their unstoppable laughter caught her attention…
As a consequence, however, Lulu had declined any further involvement in Harry's training, seeing as she had to – in her words – 'babysit the irresponsible babysitters, or be sorely tempted to introduce them to pain'; so it was just 'the girls' with him.
Much to his disappointment, Paine had vetoed teaching Harry to use any kind of weapon, claiming that it would take too long for someone completely unfamiliar with any martial arts to choose an adequate style, find the proper equipment and learn enough to be able to defend himself.
"There is no way you can learn well without guidance and no certainty that you will have our supervision for long enough," she'd told him in her serious, cool tone. "It would do you more harm than good."
It was disappointing, but like it or not, Harry trusted the reserved young woman's judgement. Paine was tough and loved a good fight, but she was also sensible and level-headed: if she didn't think he should use weapons, then he probably shouldn't. She was rather quiet, and generally kept to herself, so when she did speak, everybody knew it counted.
Rikku, on the other hand, had had no qualms in teaching Harry 'a few cool tricks', as she had put it.
Harry loved having her around. Her lively presence had made many of 'Yunie's lessons' great fun. Spirited and energetic, she apparently never tired of bouncing excitedly all over the place, her trademark green, swirled eyes full of playfulness. She was at times somewhat childish, but also quite cheerful and positive, kind-hearted and strong willed.
She was also highly intelligent… and amazingly good at stealing a large variety of useful item from their foes, then mixing and combining and getting them to react until she got something great out of it all. Like bombs, for instance!
Sadly, she was a task-master and had forced Harry to spend long hours pouring over chemistry books instead of just letting him bungle his way through experimenting.
"You have to know what all goes together and how, and what'll happen if you botch it up!" she would tell him every time he complained. "Now list all the stuff you can combine with an L-Bomb to get a Cluster Bomb!"
It was all worth it, though, when he brought his first few attempts at Alchemy into battle: his concoction of musk and brimstone went off like a charm right within the paws of a sahagin, one of the many sluggish aquatic fiends that often made their way to the beach, spraying water from their mouth on unsuspecting sunbathers. The small bomb went off beautifully, a limited but satisfyingly noisy explosion of flames that blasted the annoying creature into non-existence.
Harry had grinned hugely. Blowing up stuff was great!
It hadn't all been about magic and fighting, though, or even just about studying. Yuna had regularly interspersed Harry's training with explanations and discussions, making sure he realized that being a Summoner was more than just being able to cast a few spells or, eventually, call forth an Aeon.
"Sin might no longer be there," she'd told him firmly, "but if the Summoners' power has not disappeared, then neither have our duties. Summoners and their Guardians used to be kind of like Spira's ray of light, in the days of Sin. A lot of people depended on us. Still do, in a way, as evidenced by the reverence we are held into. But this means… we have responsibilities towards them."
Harry had looked at her doubtfully: "But if there isn't a Sin… then what…?"
"Never forget, Harry… a Summoner's first duty is always to his people. This power you've been granted must be used to help others," had said Yuna adamantly. "At times, it might not be clear how you can do so, but… this is your destiny. And your choice, I hope."
Harry had nodded, serious. "Do you really think it is… my destiny?" he'd asked. The idea was rather daunting, after all.
She had looked at him piercingly. "There must be a reason why you've been given that Rod. You will have to find out what that is…"
They'd been on the beach that day, walking leisurely on the foreshore, letting the gentle waves catch up to their feet now and then.
Harry had twirled his Rod in his hands absent-mindedly. "O'aka explained to me how Summoners went to Zanarkand to defeat Sin," he had offered rather uncertainly. He felt awkward at the mere idea of being a Summoner, let alone having a 'destiny' to fulfil.
Yuna had sighed. "There's… a little more to it than that." She'd looked far into the distance, the gentle murmur of the sea nearby and the wind playing softly with her brown locks.
"You know, I received my Enchanted Rod much the same way you have, back when I was a kid. I… thought I knew everything back then. Everything I needed to know… about what my duty was – my destiny."
She'd sighed: "My father was a High Summoner. I had grown up with tales of his skill, of his… sacrifice. I thought my fate was clear… I would step down the same path he had trod…"
She'd been silent for a moment, gazing downwards to the golden sand, gathering her thoughts.
"I grew up believing in the teachings of Yevon," she'd said eventually. "I believed… that Sin was our punishment for our vanity and that it would never go away… until we atoned for it. I… never really questioned it. I didn't know… didn't know how we were supposed to do it. Whether using machina was really that bad or not. If the Maesters of Yevon were truly leading us down the right path… I didn't know, but I didn't question. I believed that the Final Summoning was the only way to defeat Sin… the only way. And I believed that, no matter what, it was the right thing to do. To bring a Calm… even just for a little while. Even just for a moment… to let the people of Spira sleep serenely at night, walk in the sun with a smile, free of fear, free of worries… it was worth it, it was worth any sacrifice."
She paused.
"So I believed," she'd sighed.
"But you no longer do?" had asked Harry uncertainly.
Yuna had shaken her head a little, smiling sadly: "My pilgrimage… opened my eyes to many things. First I learned that the Church of Yevon was all a big lie. Then… well… one of my Guardians helped me see how pointless sacrifice in the name of victory is. 'We had no choice', that was our constant excuse… but… that way of thinking, it only brings regret."
She'd raised her gaze to look far, into the distance, into the blue sea and lighter sky stretched apparently forever.
"I still believe that doing all in my power to help others, to make their lives easier, safer, is worth any effort. But… I no longer think it is worth any sacrifice." She'd turned to look at Harry, hesitantly: "Do you understand the difference?"
Harry hadn't, not really.
So Yuna had rushed on: "I want peace. I want happiness. But I don't want friends to die... or fade away. I want to be able to smile… but also… to have those I love beside me, smiling with me. I don't want battles where we have to lose in order to win!" By the end, her voice had grown passionate, but then had broken again: "I don't want to be sad when I should be celebrating…"
"You don't look sad now," had blurted out Harry, not entirely grasping the sense of her speech.
Yuna had laughed softly, gaily. "No, because I'm not. I am… free, now, see? I have fulfilled my responsibilities as a Summoner, maybe in an unconventional way, but that's the fun, right? I have lived up to the expectations that were put on my shoulders just because I was the heir to a great legacy and I have gone on with my life… and I still have most of my family, my friends, at my side. So now I'm… happy. Serene."
She'd turned to look at him, the playful spark quite visible in her differently coloured eyes: "You will be as well, one day," she'd told him softly, with absolute certainty.
Harry had smiled back a bit uncertainly.
Fortunately for his still young mind, not all of their discussions had been so deep and complex. Sometimes Yuna had just wanted to help him cope with the inevitability of his becoming a public figure.
"One would think it's a good thing, to be famous," he'd grumbled once after yet another 'how to deal with troublesome petitioners, reporters, well-wishers and exalted who want to kill you' speech. "Blitzballers do their very best to be well-known!"
Yuna had laughed softly. "They, too, end up having the same problems, you know. Summoners are respected, treasured even, and that feels good. To be relied upon, to be welcomed everywhere, to see people excited by your mere presence, it is naturally very flattering, and brings joy. But, it is also a burden. When your opinion matters so much, you have to be cautious in giving it. When your influence can change lives, both for the better and for the worse, you have to weight the consequences of your actions carefully. And when everybody looks at you to make things better... you can't let them down, you see?"
Harry had grimaced. Yes, he had felt the weight of other people's hopes and expectations from the very start, and it kept growing day by day, even relatively hidden away as he was in Besaid.
"The worst thing is that no matter what, you'll always have eyes on you, to admire, but also to judge. I learned to watch my own actions and words at all times. And I used to practise smiling when I'm feeling sad, you know? It's hard. But it's essential. Summoners are those everybody looks to in times of troubles. People feel better if they think you can handle everything… if they believe nothing can get you down."
"But what if I do feel down?"
"If you're feeling down… smile. As if you're never hurt. As if you're never loosing hope... Be strong, for them. They rely on you… so… have faith."
Yuna's eyes had been clear and bright as she watched him, green sea and blue sky, a horizon of fortitude and freedom. "I know it's hard," she'd reiterated. "Just do your best. And don't worry… you won't be alone. I promise."
From time to time, Lulu had interjected with her own comments and recommendation, and Harry was comforted by the way she seemed to address both of them equally. It was disheartening to think he'd never be free of this kind of problems, but it made him feel less inadequate, to see that Yuna struggled with it all too.
"You must always be cautious," Lulu would say sharply, her eyes boring in Yuna in a way that suggested this wasn't a new piece of advice. "There will be those who would use your status and your power to their advantage, regardless of your goals, of the good of others, of morals. So beware!"
Yuna invariably nodded, but then just as consistently added: "But never forget that to refuse a call for help without a very good reason is… wrong, ok?"
More often than not, it was Paine who cut the exchange with one of her dry remarks, which generally went along the lines of: "It's your choice. And yours alone. Ultimately… only you can choose what to do with your gifts. You, and no one else!"
Sometimes it had been Harry who initiated their 'serious talks'.
"What's the fayth?" he had asked one night, trying to make sense of things. "The fayth Summoners pray to get their Aeons? How does that work, anyway?"
Most people on the island were gathered around big bonfires, celebrating the Besaid Aurochs who would leave the next day for Luca and the annual blitzball tournament. Rikku had been making a spectacle of herself, shouting excitedly about something or other. Lulu had been scolding Brother for his usual antics, all the while keeping an eagle eye on her baby being passed around by the Aurochs like a luck charm. Even Paine had stood with the others, a glass in her hand, and had even been seen laughing once.
Yuna had been the only one to stay apart that night, gaze lost in the vastness of the night sky, contemplating the myriad of gleaming stars. Harry had been a little hesitant to disturb her, because she'd looked lost in bittersweet thoughts, but he'd really wanted to know.
She hadn't minded. She'd just smiled at him and motioned for them both to sit on a half-buried log nearby.
"The fayth are people who gave their lives to battle Sin, Harry," she'd explained. "Yevon took their souls, willingly given from their still-living bodies, and they lived on forever, trapped in statues. But when a Summoner took enough time to ask for it, if his heart was pure enough, true enough to Spira… the soul of the fayth emerged once again. That's what we used to call an Aeon."
"Aeon…" had whispered Harry reverently. It was a hard concept to grasp, a being of pure magic that would just come to someone's call – albeit a special someone.
Someone like Harry.
It was beyond incredible.
"Aeons are creatures of spirit magic," had continued Yuna. "They are the embodiment of the fayth's dreams, as evoked by the Summoner. The physical form of an idea, that can manifest in the real world thanks to the Summoner's power."
She'd fallen silent for a long moment, then struggled to put into words what was still missing from the explanation: "The mental link that forms between Summoner and Aeon… it is indescribable. The sheer… joy… it can offer… the reassurance and unconditional support that flows through such a bond… I… it is… rewarding. Deeply so."
She'd taken a deep breath.
"I miss it," she'd admitted quietly.
Harry hadn't said anything. He couldn't imagine… and yet, somehow, he did it all the time. Or at least tried to. It was all so very confusing, but very exciting too.
"And there's how many of the Aeons?" he'd asked, already dreaming of calling one to his side.
But Yuna had shaken her head. "There used to be Eight, and the Final Summoning, which worked differently," she'd explained. "But now they're gone…"
"You mean I won't be able to call them?" had asked Harry, disappointed. "Ever?"
"I don't know, Harry," had said Yuna apologetically. "Maybe there are still some Aeons somewhere and it is your destiny to find them. Or maybe the time of Summoning is past and your task will be of a different nature…"
"But isn't Summoning what Summoners do?"
"Yes, but a Summoner also has the power to send the dead onwards, and to the Farplane."
"Huh?" Harry had been totally confused at that one.
Yuna had chuckled gently. "The Farplane is… the Afterlife. Where you go after you die," she'd explained. "Well, where you're supposed to go at any rate. Sometimes, the dead don't want to go on… because they're not sure about the way, or more likely, because they feel they still have something to do here on this plane…"
Her expression, still wistfully turned upwards to watch the stars, had grown thoughtful, pondering, and slowly, a pensive frown had appeared on her face: "Actually, that's possibly the most powerful of a Summoner's tools… it's what I used eventually to bring about the Eternal Calm… after we – my Guardian and I – defeated him, I put Yu Yevon's spirit at rest, and that was what ensured the Calm would last, instead of perpetuating the cycle of Sin's return."
Harry's breath had caught, surprised at the revelation. She'd never mentioned her battle against Sin before, not directly.
"It was the same with the Vegnagun crisis," she'd continued, oblivious to his wide-eyed stare, "I helped Shuyin and Lenne move on… reach the Farplane..."
Harry, spellbound, had furrowed his brow in confusion. "Who are… were… Shuyin and Lenne? And how does that even work, anyway?" he had asked with a puzzled frown. "Is the Farplane a… a place? Like, an actual one?"
She'd thought a little on that. "I think I can talk Brother into taking us to the former Guadosalam. There you will see… and understand. You need to see the Farplane for yourself. After all, it is a Summoner's duty to help the dead go on, to where they belong…"
She'd trailed off, looking at the distant stars again, clearly thinking of something… or someone…
Loath as he was to redirect her attention once more, Harry couldn't stop himself from asking: "How can I do that?"
Yuna had blinked, almost startled, but then she'd smiled apologetically. "The Ritual to do it is called a Sending. I can teach you… it is a prayer that takes time, and the movements are difficult but beautiful. It gives me peace… it gives everybody peace."
Harry had nodded and they'd fallen into a companionable silence together.
Their routine – studying, training, practising, discussing – had gone on for a while and though he'd missed Sky Runner a little, Harry would have been quite content to live like that indefinitely.
About a week earlier, however, he'd woken up with a loud gasp, not from one of his recurring nightmares of the monster, in fact, he couldn't even remember what he'd been dreaming at all, but rather because he'd been suddenly filled with a sense of... urgency.
He'd needed to do something, something important!
He'd found himself outside in the chilly night air without even knowing how or when he'd got dressed and slipped out. He'd been glad to find his Rod clenched tightly in his hands, though: the familiar weight was comforting.
Soon he'd found himself mid-way up the hill behind the village, standing uncertainly in the middle of the path, feeling small and intimidated while staring up at the most impressive of the ruins scattered over Besaid.
In the light of day, the weird towering structure with its odd articulated joints and faded colours was just part of the Island's peculiar but familiar landscape. Nobody paid it any attention and even if the first time he'd caught sight of it Harry had been amazed and stricken, he'd soon learned to take it for granted, just like all the other, more discreetly arranged, ruins of the area.
Finding himself all alone under it, in the dead of night, his timid gaze raised to stare at the impressively looming construction, had made him re-evaluate its impact. Its shape had blended into the night, losing definition, but its presence had appeared somehow more real and worrisome than when it could be seen in every detail.
The complex had always reminded Harry of a giant mechanical spider laying in wait across the path, non-existent eyes focused on the incautious travellers strolling though the supporting pillars that made its 'legs'. That night, his imagination had made him hear a raspy breathing coming from its stone and metal bowels and though a part of his mind had scolded him for his silliness, pointing out that it was just the sea, unusually loud in the resounding silence but nonetheless quite natural and not at all frightening, another part of him had wanted to hide and whimper at the impression that the immense structure was moving up and down slightly, heaving slow breaths, ready and waiting...
He'd wanted to turn around and run, flee, hide, but at the same time, he had known... just known... that he had to get inside. Never mind that it was supposedly impossible to enter it. Never mind that he hadn't wanted to...
Firming his jaw stubbornly, he'd forced down the irrational fear that had been invading him. He wouldn't let it stop him. Shaking off the feeling of dread that the huge spider-like construction gave him, he'd strapped the Rod to his back with his belt and tackled the fern-covered rocks the structure was inserted in.
Climbing on the nearest leg – err... tower – had been the matter of minutes and from the top of it, balancing along a suspended bridge-like beam had been quite easy, but then Harry had been stumped.
The tall 'legs' were topped by beams arching towards a platform and that was the level he'd reached: he'd stood at the outer edge of the horizontal surface that supported a circular building whose exterior looked positively impenetrable. A complete circuit of the edifice had merely reinforced the impression. There were no doors, no openings, no holes that he could see; no panels or gears or buttons or levers or whatnot – how was he supposed to get in? Was there even a way?
Feeling disheartened and lost, he'd perched on a circular bench-like sill that leaned at an awkward angle. In the darkness, the distant sea down below was an invisible presence, its murmur only audible because of the widespread silence. The huge ruin had been a deeper blackness than the black of the starless sky and it had made Harry shiver with cold and dread where he uneasily sat in its looming shadow, darkness engulfing him from every side.
The chilly breeze, the dark, the solitude of the silently sleeping island had started to get to him. His certainty and drive had started to fade. He'd no longer been sure that he was even supposed to be there. Maybe it had been just a nightmare, maybe there was nothing to do or to find there, maybe he'd just been impressionable and gullible.
But then – just as he'd stood up with a dejected sigh - he'd slipped on the uneven surface and felt himself tumble towards the central tower. A soft cry escaping him, he'd held out a hand blindly, grasping for support. His palm had hit the smooth surface of the base of the strange building and his momentum had rubbed skin against metal involuntarily.
Surprisingly he'd felt a pattern of scratched marks on the wall, marks that unexpectedly had flared like neon-pink burns: a Glyph!
He'd stared in awe. He'd never actually seen a Glyph – not a real one at least: Yuna and even Wakka had drawn a few of the elaborately carved Summoning Glyphs they'd seen during her pilgrimage for him, so that he'd get an idea of how they looked, but this... this was so elegant in its simplicity that Harry had felt his breath hitch.
Words Yuna had mentioned only in passing, but that he'd soaked up like an eager sponge, resurfaced in his mind: "Look around yourself, Harry... you'll find that our world is full of sacred symbols and beautifully ornate mandalas... those who believed the Teachings of Yevon used them constantly... to teach, to help focus, to mark sacred spaces... but only few became true Glyphs..."
It was true: everywhere in Spira there were graceful writings used as ornaments, on buildings, on clothes, on precious items.
"These signs... because they are symbolical representations of the world and all its elements, when they are charged by spiritual energy, they can have interesting effects on the world they represent... like sending a power surge through a specific path, freezing an area, creating flames, destroying an obstacle... or activating a door or a switch... That is what we call a Glyph..."
Was this it then?
With a trembling hand, he'd traced the core symbol, finger sliding over the peach-pink fluorescent lines with great care... two vertical signs on the left, cascading gently and then curving a little outward at the bottom, accompanied by a stylized tree supporting a twinkling star on the right. All encased in a circling frame of flowery geometric patterns entwining.
He wished he knew what it meant, but it hadn't been a standard yevonite script symbol and not even Yuna had had any idea of its true meaning, when Harry had reproduced it for her, later. Though just running a light finger over the traits had evoked in Harry a sense of belonging and rest, of achieved peace. Of coming home.
When he'd gathered enough courage to firmly press his palm in the middle of the Glyph, a section of the wall had slid upwards without a sound, darkness opening onto more darkness. But Harry's fear had dulled to almost nothing.
He'd felt excited.
Yuna's voice had echoed again in his mind: "Aeons are obtained by completing the Cloister of Trials at each of Spira's temples. Or, rather… that's how it used to work." He could picture her small smile so clearly, the one she'd used when quoting: "Those who seek to learn of Yevon's secret arts are tested by the Cloister of Trials. Find the right way, and you will be taken to the Chamber of the Fayth."
Was this it? Was he going to get an Aeon? He had barely dared to hope...
He'd activated the awesome sonar function Buddy had added to his goggles and walked confidently into the darkness. As usual, he'd felt like giggling at the weird sensation it caused: it was like things sprung out of nowhere when he got close enough, with no details whatsoever but rather just outlines and impressions of volumes, in the odd evanescent colours he would see inside his eyelids after staring at a fire and then closing his eyes tightly. It was fun! And more importantly, it had allowed him to fumble his way through the circular room without many problems, all the while hoping to find another Glyph to light the way. But the area had been disappointingly empty and the walls largely smooth.
He had, at last, dropped on all four and patiently felt around the floor with his hands, attempting to get a feel for its layout by way of groping, and finally, he'd recognized the pattern of an etched, vaguely circular symbol. The Glyph this time had glowed bright green and the section of floor had sunk into descending steps.
With renewed determination, he'd started going down, absently noticing that the staircase seemed to be taking him inside one of the pillars on the outer side of the hill and that it had quickly morphed into a spiral staircase running along the walls, with a plunging cavity in the middle that he had done his very best to ignore.
At first the steps had been regularly spaced, but after a while the descending path had been ruined in places, with instances of collapsed flooring or leaning walls. Harry had had to slow down and become extremely careful, but the symbols he could feel under his hand at regular intervals going down, which blazed with neon-blue light when he pressed them, had reassured him that it was the right way.
For all his cautiousness however, he'd ended up losing his foot on a slippery half-crumbled step anyway and he'd fallen with a sharp cry, luckily not far. He'd landed in shallow water: it had barely reached his knees, but it had been freezing cold and the unexpected splash had resounded ominously in the pitch black cavity he'd realized he was trapped in.
He hadn't seen a way out, be it through an opening or by climbing: he'd been well and truly trapped.
Shivering and cursing, he'd fought the wave of panic that the cold and the dark were trying to arouse in him. The sonar was great, but it did nothing to dispel the weighty feeling of the shadows closing in on him. If only there was a spell for creating light…
The thought had stopped him short.
He'd freed his Rod from the belt it had been secured to and run his hands on it in the darkness, blindly, finding a measure of comfort in the very familiar texture. Yuna's words had been running through his mind. "An expert mage can tweak the magical energy for his own purposes…"
It had been dangerous, since he hadn't really known what he was doing, it had been rash. He had been warned many times against attempting any casting for which he could not accurately judge the need for energy and compare it with precision to his own reserves. But desperate times called for desperate measures…
Grasping his Rod tightly with both hands near the top, he'd tried a few turns of phrases in his mind, switching and mixing words to come up with an invocation that might work. He'd come to the conclusion that this had to be why most incantations were so lame, it was a pain to think one up…!
Settling on an acceptable line at last, he'd quickly, lest he thought better of it, called his magical power up, raising his Rod with barely trembling hands still clenched near its top.
"Stars bright, pour forth your light!"
With a suddenness that had caught him off guard, magic had rushed up through him and run like electricity along the Rod, pooling atop it and then seamlessly spilling forth, white light blazing suddenly and swiftly chasing the shadows to remote corners, so that the darkness immediately around Harry was lit with a dazzling radiance, that did not pass or dim, but remained steady and comforting, hardly draining him at all.
Awed at his success, he had been able to examine his surroundings with a calmer heart and remounting curiosity…
Too bad there hadn't been anything to see. No way out, no footholds or grips to climb back, no furniture or machina or items lying around, nothing. He'd poked and prodded the walls and splashed cautiously the water with his foot, hoping something would happen. To no avail.
He'd had no idea whether the Trial was over, whether it had been a Trial at all, what was supposed to happen after. Yuna had never mentioned what came after the Trials. He'd barely had any notion of there being a Chamber for praying at the end of it, but surely, this couldn't be it? What was he supposed to do now?
He'd stood there in the dark, the quiet sea whooshing softly all around him, the cool night breeze moving his dark bangs slightly. He'd felt lost.
Then… he'd heard a hovering sound, distant and close at the same time. A – voice? It was and it wasn't… a singing voice, or rather a humming one, full of solemnity and depth, sad and daunting and full of hope all at once, at the same time completely alien and heartbreakingly familiar.
It had moved like a breeze, rising and falling, coming and going, and had seemed to drift in a wide circle around him. He'd spun around and around, trying to turn in the direction of the wistful tune, but he could see no-one and nothing.
"Who are you?" he'd cried, "Where are you?" but all that had come back to him had been an echo which darted fitfully in the shadows.
The song had never quieted though: now fainter now louder, a sound had hovered in the air and the humming song had never been wholly silent. With a jolt, Harry had realized that he recognized it: it was the tune he'd heard when he'd found the Rod, when Yuna had touched it for the first time. Granted, it was a richer, fuller version, but now that he'd caught on, unmistakably the same.
It had seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, whispered by the waves, or was that Harry's heartbeat?
Carrying a question…
What do you want?
And Harry had hesitated, because somehow, it had felt more important than just that and he'd suddenly worried that he didn't know the answer after all.
What… and the murmur of the crashing waves had counterpointed the question …do you truly want?
He'd stopped, and thought, and images had risen in him… of O'aka gesturing about something or other, of Clasko smiling ruefully, of Sky Runner flapping his wings excitedly and warbling, of Rikku and Yuna and Paine and Buddy and Lulu and Vidina and Wakka… of the beach near the village of Besaid and its clear blue sea…
Return...
The song had intensified, and there was more joy than sadness now, though it was still solemn; and Harry had nodded thoughtfully: yes... to return home, when all was said and done... that was a good thing to wish. Right?
The whisper had changed, ruffling around him like a breeze…
And then, just like that, it had been there. A... presence of sorts, sliding in place into the back of his mind, so naturally that he'd taken a moment to wonder at the marvellous simplicity of it all. He hadn't known exactly how he was feeling it, or why, but he had known it was there as surely as he knew his hand was attached to his arm. And with it had come a faint warmth of comfort, support, relief.
Summoner, I shall stand by you.
He almost hadn't known how he'd managed to run back to the others, or to make them understand the tale tumbling from his mouth with barely any coherence.
That very day, the whole Village had gathered to watch, amazed at the idea of a new Summoner being proven true at last, beyond any lingering doubt.
Harry had stood in the middle of a rough circle of people, his Rod held horizontally in front of him, more nervous than he'd ever been before. He'd glanced right and caught sight of Lady Yuna's encouraging smile. Rikku had been waving madly beside her, like a cheerleader, and Paine had gazed coolly at him, projecting confidence. He'd nodded. Okay.
He'd raised his arms slowly, in a wide arc, bringing his Rod up in front of him, raised vertically towards the sky. He could almost feel everybody holding their breath. Including himself.
Slowly, he'd lowered his Rod, gathering his energy – magic, faith, whatever you wanted to call it. At the edge of his vision, he'd seen small evanescent bubbles of energy with a green tinge starting to form and it had been all he could do not to grin. It was working! The bubbles had coalesced all around him like small comets with their wakes merging into a single trailed circle around his waist.
He'd taken a deep breath, his nervousness dissolving, and moved, determinedly, performing the step and wave of his Rod needed to call forth the entity that the mysterious energy had somehow linked to him: in his mind, he was shouting pleadingly 'I need you!'
Light had shot up from the circle like a translucent foam and converged to form a bright star atop his head, bright and luminous against the unexpected dark clouds that seemed to have appeared only over the circle he had created.
Harry'd smiled, certain that the star was an embodiment of his invocation. He'd felt nothing but joy when, from the rapidly spinning vortex of clouds, something dark had formed and fallen fast towards him, his shape growing more definite with every instant: a great winged creature, golden fur and purple feathers glowing softly as it soared, screeching, and then glided down to him.
The large lion-like creature had remained hovering over him, its great wings flapping calmly and its eagle head scrutinizing him. Harry had looked up serenely, not even remotely afraid, but a little awed at the magnificence of the Aeon.
For a long instant, they had gazed calmly at each other, measuring one another up, strengthening their connection. Then the great Aeon had glided closer and landed lightly and Harry had stepped forth, smiling, and raised a hand to stroke the creature's bowed head gently.
The Aeon had warbled happily and than stood on its hind legs, looming protectively, sharp onyx eyes glaring at the gaping watchers. Not spotting any immediate threat among the people admiring it in stunned awe, it had crouched down low beside its Summoner. Its gigantic wings had folded elegantly against its body and it had awaited orders, its tail lashing impatiently behind it.
Harry had been lost in joyful wonder. The Aeon had been simply magnificent and the sense of connection he could feel, like a warm flickering flame in his heart, had made him feel elated. He'd never seen anything like the wondrous creature in his life. Sure, it was a little scary, but still, he could feel a strange kind of gentleness coming from it.
Instinctively, he'd petted it gently while thanking it in mid-voice for answering his call. The Aeon had purred under his ministration, turning and nudging Harry's hand, asking for more. The green-eyed boy had grinned and run his hands over its neck a few times before gently releasing the connection between them.
The Aeon had flown away and disappeared into nothingness, leaving a clear sky once more, but Harry could feel its presence still, like a warm laugh at the back of his mind.
Awed whispers and cheers had burst out from every spectator, Rikku's the loudest, and Yuna had come up to him with a big smile: "The fayth has entrusted you with a new Aeon!" she'd said ritualistically, bowing gracefully in the gesture of the prayer.
Harry had bowed back, feeling serene.
And now, barely a week after becoming a full-fledged Summoner, here he was, contemplating the path that he could see stretching before him and into his future.
He was no longer scrawny and no longer miserable, nor lonely: he had a family now, even if an unconventional one, and friends. He had a fulfilling and exciting life, people he cared about.
Most importantly, he had a place of his own in the world: he was no longer a freak, an oddity. He had an explanation for why he was different and far from making him 'wrong', it made him liked and respected. He had found his place, his reason for living.
He was happy.
It had been the best idea imaginable, to take a chance with the 'magic'.
And now, he was about to take a chance once more.
He looked critically over the invisible window that had unexpectedly appeared in front of him: a perfect copy of the one that had brought him to Spira over three years earlier. This too opened on a wooded area, though instead of a magical night time, the lush green forest beyond was bathed in warmth and sunlight…
For a long moment, he hesitated.
He didn't want to lose all he'd gained here on Spira. He was happy here and he had people to love and who loved him. Why would he leave?
He hadn't yet met the famous Benzo, nor seen the mysterious Mt. Gagazet. He hadn't had a chance to try his hand at blitzball, or learn how the Towers that served as lightning rods in the Thunder Plains were recalibrated.
But his Rod was humming loudly, passing him the strong conviction that he was needed elsewhere.
It wasn't such an outlandish concept. One thing he had learned from O'aka was that leaving friends behind was something that happened all the time, and it was sad, but also not, as it meant that the possibility of meeting new ones opened up; and anyway, one could almost always go back after a while, just like he did regularly with Sky Runner and Clasko. The important thing was not to forget. Never forget...
Make new friends and keep the old,
one is silver, the other's gold…
The little lively verse danced in his mind while he wrote to his odd 'family' on a piece of bark. There wasn't much to say.
Take care. A wish.
I will come back. A promise.
I love you. A truth.
Magic existed and had taken him away, given him a better life, where he was useful and wanted. Magic had granted him the powers of a Summoner... It was only fair that he followed Magic's lead wherever it took him. Until such a time when he would return.
If he could return at all...
A moment of self-doubt almost stopped him, but then words that Nooj had spoken once upon a time in Luca's Stadium flittered through his mind: No one knows just where our voyage will lead us. But we do know one thing: one way or another, we will get by. We'll go on living.
And something Lulu had told him followed: No matter how long the night, morning always comes, and the journey begins anew.
His night had been long and wonderful, full of happy dreams. Now it was morning… now it was time for his journey to 'begin anew'.