Coup D'état

"In the dawn, armed with a burning patience, we shall enter the splendid Cities."
(Arthur Rimbaud, A Season in Hell & Other Poems)

The sun was setting in the hidden desert city of Sandara. Crickets chirped, hidden somewhere in the vast dark sandlands around Home. Lanterns glowed on the balcony of the council room; through the stained glass of the windows, Wantz eyed the members of Spira and Bikanel's Trade Board; they all looked agitated. No wonder, since Lady Rikku was absent. A young Al Bhed named Shiruba tried to calm the crowded room. He thought she was buying time, but it seemed to be in vain as the arguing continued. We had endured days of travel, someone complained.
This is no way to treat guests, a Spiran merchant huffed.
She will join us soon, old Al Bhed rulers promised.
Someone should do something, Wantz thought.

It was then that he met young Shiruba's gaze. Please, he said with his eyes, do something. The girl nodded, as if finding her strength, and then turned towards the crowd of elders.
"SILENCE!" her thin voice thundered. The room froze, as many pairs of eyes shifted towards the origin of the command. Finally, silence fell; "Everyone please take place in the designated seats, the board will begin in five minutes. The first point to discuss is the areas of interest in the treaty; you can find all the data in the files in front of you. Our leader will join us shortly; in her absence, I, Shiruba and Lord X'anu will serve as moderators."
Old X'anu gave a nod, satisfied with the young woman's directives. Why hadn't the old man spoken earlier? Was he hoping that the board didn't take place? Wantz found himself wondering.

The mood of the room shifted, as young Shiruba learned an important lesson: respect is to be earned (unfortunately). Wantz smiled, walked inside and sat at the big round table where a plate with his family name was.

But a question kept buzzing in his busy merchant's mind: Where was Lady Rikku, and, most importantly, was Faram with her? He hoped so, for some unknown reason. But, even if that was the case, why were those two together? Did they know each other? The Oaka's had famously played the part of the good-willed, naive merchants for centuries, but it was a play, a trick, nonetheless. Wantz knew how to observe, it was a necessary skill for a trader. And so he suspected that Faram had known Rikku well in the past. He wasn't sure whether the young leader recognized who Faram was, but he suspected that she was part of the reason why the warrior kept his identity hidden. Interesting, very very interesting indeed. I could write a novel out of this.

The meeting began and Shiruba presented the first point for discussion. The conversation around commercial routes was brief, as every single merchant in the room was more interested in discussing profit. Geography was created on the base of earnings, after all. So the debate shifted towards more heated tones; as Lord X'anu had just begun to illustrate what the Al Bhed thought was a fair proposal, a Bevelle representative suddenly interrupted him. He was speaking in the name of one of the richest families on the continent, the Nuvol Casata.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I must express doubts about the proposal before us, carefully drafted by our Albhed friends. We shouldn't consider so hastily to share the profit equally with our new partners. I suggest we establish trade connections with specific regions in Bikanel and assess the outcomes first; only then, perhaps, we can explore the possibility of more favourable terms."

Voices rose in the room once again. Al Bheds were outraged, while some spirans agreed, and others did not. Opinions over opinions over veiled insults began to echo in the room. It was clear that there was a deep-rooted mistrust and animosity between the Al Bhed and the Spirans, and that this treaty was not going to be an easy one to negotiate. Wantz watched as Shiruba tried to regain control of the meeting, knowing that the vast power disparities between Albheds and the Spiran countries made it challenging to find a mutually beneficial solution. Wantz couldn't help but feel the injustice of the situation, recognizing the historical exploitation of Bikanel and the urgent need for a more equitable trade agreement.

The argument became increasingly heated, with insults flying and opinions clashing, but no one could agree on the issue of profits.

"Why have you come here if you have no intention of negotiating fair conditions that acknowledge Bikanel's rightful place in the trade?"

"I am outraged, you're insulting the very ground you're on!"

"We don't need desert goods, you can keep your silks and sticky fruits for yourselves!"

"Where was Spira when the Guado took everything from us?!"

"Where were you Al Bheds when we defeated Sin, then?"

"Our leader was in Lady Yuna's party! Are you insinuating that she didn't save the world?"

"I am just saying that your venerable leader was a teenage girl at the time"

"You forget that Lady Yuna is half Al Bhed!"

"I will sell Al Bhed goods retaining 70% of the sale's profit. You'll still be less poor than you are now"

"As a spiran, I don't feel represented by your greediness. My ancestors found their fortune on the continent by selling Bikanel's goods, in the old times…"

"Yeah, the old times are old! You can pretend you're righteous but in the end, it's business we're talking about, and I am not making business without profit!"

"You'll have your share of earnings! You can't seriously think of exploiting this population's goods!"

"Exploiting?! I am making 'em a favour just by being here!"

Wantz wished he could plug his ears. Lord X'anu attempted to raise his voice several times but to no avail. The room was impossible to control.

Suddenly something marvellous happened.

Water-filled glasses shook on the table. Next came the ground; the earth grumbled as if a giant, and an enraged one too, were striding toward them. Finally, the wind: a strong blast spread the high windows open. On the balcony where he stood just a while before, a huge beast landed.

A massive Zuu, carrying two sky warriors, dirty with dust and mud and blood and wrapped in the lightest silks, fiercely sitting on the beast's back, their hands intertwined in the wild fiend's fuchsia plumage, which moved in the air like flames ablaze in the night. Scarves fluctuated, hair moved, the faces of the now standing crowd were deformed by surprise and their clothes shook in the wind created by those massive wings slapping. They were all astounded. Rikku and Faram had made their entrance.

Chapter 10 - Sky Warriors

"You wide-eyed girls, you get it right"
(Beach House, Space Song)

Everything around her had the semblance of a dream; yes, she was dreaming. Maybe she was dead… In the ancient Al Bhed lullabies that her mother sang to her, death was often described as a dream. Yes. She was dead. But instead of the yevonite otherworld, she found herself standing again on the slope of that mountain. Again.

The peak was so near now; Rikku felt her heart beating fast in her chest as the brilliant rays of the energy source pierced her eyeballs. In the spot generating the red light eruption, Rikku's eyes locked onto a portal, an entrance. It bore a striking resemblance to the one at the Pollendina Temple — Oh… the Zuu fight… oh, Faram! Panic surged through her. She couldn't leave him to face the beast alone. She needed to wake up... NOW! Urgency surged through her, making her chest tighten as she struggled to break free from this dream-like state.

When her eyes opened again, this time fluttering in the real world (or so she hoped), the first thing she noticed was a blazing pain warming her belly. Everything around her was faint, barely visible, and the air felt heavier, stale. She could hardly see the grey stone ceiling and, crouched and worryingly eyeing her belly, Faram. His brown eyes were squeezed in focus, as he pushed his hands lightly on her wound. She felt a soft rush of relief. So he could use a bit of magic… When he noticed she was awake he quickly lifted his hands, as if he had just been caught stealing. Rikku chuckled. Ouch. That hurt.

"Are we both dead?" she breathed.

Faram said no with his head. His eyes shyly fixated on the wall.

"I'm sorry, I went in too quick, my mistake," Rikku's throat felt hoarse. Faram's face, or rather what she could glimpse of it, seemed dried of any feeling. He doesn't even feel human, right now. What's up with this guy? Rikku felt a sudden spike of curiosity.

He had saved her life, technically, already twice; he came from overseas with a jolly merchant who had looked like a normie on holiday, while other merchants were clearly only interested in getting the business done (pun intended). Wantz was a great guy; she couldn't say that she got to know him very well during the pilgrimage, but he was there for them when he was needed. Also… well, let's just say those weren't the easiest times to be helping out Lady Yuna and her Guardians. Infidels. Dissidents. Traitors. Anarchists (Rikku LOVED this one).

Now this man, Faram… There was something about him, a vague feeling, a trembling impression. Something deep down and definitely not located in her conscious mind, but instead in her guts… a feeling that screamed the word "trustworthy".

He had collected water and was now soaking pieces of cloth in a basin.

"Where did you get that stuff from?" Rikku softly asked. Faram pointed his head towards a little jade shrine close to the main stone portal. A green fire burned in a bronze brazier and votive basins were filled with flower petals. Heh, stealing sacred offerings? She liked this guy.

Faram's hands moved towards her wound as he crouched once again at her side. She looked at him, silent, and nodded. She didn't have the time to clench her teeth, the shoopuf-fucker was quick.

"Ffffff-" That hurt.

She felt her abs tense, as Faram gently tapped the wet cloth on her belly. A sharp pain shot through her, and she clenched her teeth. She had a free coupon for a nice scar, yes. And just before festival season! Everyone knew that Rikku was all about showing off her belly button. But what was the point? She probably wouldn't be able to see a single Coachilika gig again! What a shame. Really. She was such a young flower. Not that she was scared of that wound, but holy Piros, did it hurt! And it looked as if there was quite a bit of flesh exposed. Was he worried? Was she supposed to get worried? Nah. Calm down Rikku, you've been through a lot, like a lot a lot.

Faram raised his hands and inspected the injury from up close once again. Rikku's eyes remained fixed on his face as the pain continued to dance on her skin, threatening to overwhelm her. Faram opened both his palms on her belly and closed his eyes. She could feel the warm flow of mana, like a gentle river, coursing through the temple's pillars, tiles, and vines, converging into him, and then being released in a soothing cascade that enveloped her. Okay, he can be quite powerful. Not "white mage dressphere" kinda powerful, but way more than the average warrior knowing how to perform a basic Cure spell.

"Thank you," she whispered. He lifted his eyes to meet hers and…

Have you ever seen an eye smile? The way wrinkles crinkle on the side of the eyes, and the pupils disappear for a second - it's all about the wrinkles, really, not the smile. Especially since Faram's face was covered; and oh, why she longed to see his face? She guessed that intense situations like this one, life and death and all that jazz, enhanced comradery, and then curiosity had always been her thing. An eye smile from a mysterious man tending to her wounds - some people liked to call it a "smize", but she found the term obnoxious.

Come on this wild and colourful train of thoughts! Like a rollercoaster filled with smizes (ew), fierce warriors, splashes of blood, and enchanted temples. It was so captivating that it whisked her away from the pain. Wait, was the pain even there anymore? Well, the magic did work, but she needed an extra dose of it to regain her strength and stand tall. Either way, she felt a quiet calmness tickling her mind. She would've lived.

She will live.

Auron felt a wave of relief wash over him as his tense shoulders finally relaxed, his entire being shifting from emergency mode back to normalcy. Observing Rikku's efforts to rise, he couldn't help but notice her determination. With slow, measured breaths, she managed to sit up, despite the fresh wound. Stubborn, that was Rikku's nature. Auron remained seated on a large rock near the entrance, his gaze fixed on her. He knew he couldn't abandon her in this vulnerable state. If a fiend caught wind of her blood, it would be her demise.

His mind wrestled with a dilemma. Though this place provided better shelter than the open desert, how long would it take for Rikku to recover sufficiently to make the journey back to Sandara? Days, perhaps, with that injury. And what about the temple? Had they come all this way only to retreat? His impulsive decision to follow Rikku without a proper plan had been naive, and now he bore the consequences of his recklessness. This second chance at life didn't alter the rules of the game. Don't be foolish, Auron, and protect those around you. Those were the rules. He despised his own stupidity. The self-criticism that had been absent from his unconscious mind during his time in the afterlife had come back. It was a reminder of what he had left behind and the burdens he now carried once more.

As Auron sat there, his silent presence an unwavering anchor, he couldn't help but admire Rikku's tenacity. She didn't give in to pain, not easily. He hoped that her resilience would be enough to carry her through this ordeal.

Rikku's gaze was fixed upon Auron, gratitude evident in her eyes. "Thank you for patching me up. Could you pass me my belt?" she requested. Auron rose from his spot and retrieved her belongings before crouching down again to hand her the garment grid.

"You'll have to put it around my hips," she explained. Auron hesitated, his movements careful and deliberate as he secured the belt, ensuring to avoid any unnecessary contact, as was customary for a Spiran like him. He wasn't prudish, but old traditions clung.

Once the belt was fastened, Rikku's cheeks flushed as the energy from the garment grid surged through her. Slowly, she rose, her figure now radiant and translucent, as Auron had already witnessed during her initial transformation in the desert. As the light faded and she became visible again, she appeared adorned in a white vest, with a hood gracefully draped over her head. In her slightly trembling hands, she held a staff that resembled a crimson tree branch.

"I suppose you prefer this outfit, you square!" she jested, a playful tone to her voice. Then, she proceeded to attend to her injuries. This unexpected twist of events brought a glimmer of hope. Perhaps Rikku's impulsiveness wasn't as hindering as he had believed. Perhaps they wouldn't remain trapped in this temple for days on end. Auron was glad.

Rikku stood before him, her face betraying a flicker of doubt for a brief moment. Then, she spoke with determination. "Show me your injury. I can sense it. Holy Sin, this dressphere can be nerve-wracking. Where is it?" She circled around him, eyes scanning for evidence supporting her intuition. Yes, he had been injured, but nothing too severe. Nothing worthy of wasting potions or magic on himself instead of on Rikku. His instinct had urged him to place her safety above all else, a subtle but profound testament to the sentiment that had always resided within his heart of guardian.

Her frantic search stopped, and her eyebrows furrowed, casting a dark shadow over her green eyes. There was a hint of hostility in her expression as she threatened, "I've mastered the Stop spell, you know." This stubborn Albhed.

Auron fumbled with the blue silks of his vest and bared his shoulder to reveal a bleeding cut inflicted by Zoo's sharp claws.

Shoulder. Strong wide shoulder. Obviously, healthy warrior tendons. Nicies. Shut the machina up Rikku.

Rikku nodded after a brief moment, her demeanour serious, and gracefully moved her staff. A cascade of radiant energy fell upon his shoulder, instantly mending his skin. He was impressed by her skill as a white mage. Yuna's incredible power was one thing, but to witness an alchemist, thief, and light warrior possessing such mana and control was beyond impressive. It was a valuable asset on the battlefield. Rikku was strong, far surpassing his expectations.

He examined the small, newly formed white scar on his shoulder, and a surge of pride filled his chest. Rikku smiled at him, her expression exuding vitality and good health. "Let's get going now," she announced. He nodded, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty swirled in his mind as he contemplated the path that lay ahead.

The Pollendina Temple was far different from Yevon's shrines. First of all, no Hymn of the Fayth chanting solemnly, just a heavy silence seldom interrupted by water drops and, on this occasion, the sounds of their feet walking down the empty corridors of stone. Rikku was stricken by the smell especially: an earthy smell of stale water and dry sand. Faram walked behind her, and she could sense his keen awareness of their surroundings. No fiends in sight, though.

After a mildly boring walk, they entered a large chamber, illuminated by ever-glimmering fires. How on Spira were those braziers alive with fire? Was there a secret hunchback monk lighting those every day? Crazy. On the stone wall in front of them, there were ancient, scraped-by-time inscriptions and drawings. Faram stopped to examine his surroundings. Rikku did the same. A small green door stood in the middle of the wall, but they moved to inspect the graffiti first.

The larger fresco depicted the Nunalie; young Albheds drinking from a glass phial: the Youth's Dew, the Eftinan, the sacred and nowadays taboo poison of the Pollendina House. The story in images continued, half-lit by the vivid fire. Now there was a boy, painted wearing a blue cape. A ring of energy encircled him. Rikku's index rested on her chin, "And who's this? A mage? He doesn't look Al Bhed…" Rikku read out loud the inscription under the image of the boy, "Yori… Is that his name? I have no clue here". Faram silently stood beside her: silent, of course, and as clueless as she was.

The third image was what stopped even Rikku from talking for about 5 minutes (the man was already doing a great job at it). Five minutes. Do you know how long those feel when heavy silence is on? A lot. The third graffiti was the exact replica (or, more probably, the original) of the scroll that Maechen showed her. A female Albhed warrior standing on the cliff of a collapsing mountain, Masamune in her hands, and a cloaked man in the background.

Now that she had the image of the scroll and the man himself in front of her, there were no doubts. It was him. It was Faram.

His breaths were heavier now; apprehensive. No need to circle around the evidence, so she spoke. "Those two look like you and me. That's part of the reason why I wanted you to come along."

Faram's eyes squinted, meditative, not looking at her. Rikku felt restless. "Hey, I get it, your vow must be all serious and profound, but come on, throw us a bone here! Who in the world are you?! Got any clue why we've ended up in this crazy old piece of wall art?"

Faram stood silent, sighed and shook his head. Rikku crouched. She brought her hands to her hair, fingers clenched tight like a hedgehog curling into a defensive ball. Such a useless trip.

The silence, this time, was real.

Cross-legged, the man sat near her and carefully retrieved his leather notebook. A muffled growl of annoyance left her mouth. C'mon Rikku, he's trying to cooperate by writing, at least.

She eyed his journal.

"I DON'T KNOW, I'M SORRY", he scribbled onto the paper, his pen dancing across the lines.

Her eyes met the words on the page, searching for answers. "...who are you?" she whispered, her voice laced with curiosity. She cast a subtle glance at him, peering through her lashes. Their eyes locked for a second. Warm brown eyes. They retired once again.

He hesitated, his pen hovering over the paper, his brows furrowing slightly in contemplation. She noticed the flicker of hesitation in him as he searched for the right words. And then, with a bold stroke, he replied, "NOBODY... YET." And then, below that, he added, "WE STILL HAVE THAT CHAMBER TO EXPLORE."

Rikku's eyes widened slightly as she read the words scrawled on the page. The simplicity of his response sent a shiver of curiosity down her spine. A mix of intrigue and anticipation filled her as she looked up at Faram, her gaze searching his face for any further hints. He looked into her eyes once again, this time letting her see him without holding back… A man, just a man, allowing her to seek something, anything, in the open book of his eyes. If only she knew what to look for… The realization dawned upon her that this story held secrets yet untold, and the enigma surrounding Faram was just the beginning.

Without uttering a word, she nodded, acknowledging the unspoken invitation to explore the mysterious chamber ahead. She simply had to trust him. She had blindly trusted many in the past: a rebel girl firmly believing in the essential good nature of men. Anyone could be moved by goodness, in the end— even someone like Seymour. But now… while her heart still held traces, the naivety had been replaced by a shrewd insight into human nature. Her innocence dimmed. But not extinguished. She saw herself like a serpent: her emerald skin was shedding, and very little patches of 16-year-old Rikku survived, barely attached to her coil-bound body.

Faram got up elegantly; he extended his hand to her. It felt more than just a helping gesture; it felt like a request for trust. Rikku grabbed his hand. He gently lifted her up. He was warm. Now Rikku's face was too. Flustered, she turned her back to him and walked to the green door. It was just a door.

"Let's see…" Rikku's eyes locked onto a shiny silver handle on the surface. She grabbed it, and the door swung open. In front of her stretched a narrow chamber, illuminated by the warm glow of fire torches. The room appeared empty.

With a hint of caution, Rikku stepped into the chamber. Suddenly, a frustrated grumble sounded behind her, and she spun around to see Faram. His hands pressed against an invisible wall, his expression a blend of determination and irritation.

"A barrier?" she asked, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

Faram nodded, visibly frustrated with the door (or lack thereof) blocking the entrance to him.

"I guess it's a VIP-AlBhed-only type situation…" Rikku scrolled her shoulders.

"Quick as a chocobo, hopefully," she quipped, a determined edge in her voice. Faram's gaze was steady. "Don't worry, I'll be careful," she reassured, giving him a wink. His face was emotionless. Heh, hard audience.

The door suddenly closed behind her. Rikku flinched.

The chamber had nothing special about it, apart from the fact that her steps seemed to echo through a space far larger than its physical dimensions. Illuminated by the faint glow of the torches she had noted earlier, it sprawled out before her in simple emptiness. No intricate paintings adorned the walls, no puzzles or sounds —just a blank canvas of a room. A room stripped down to its most basic form. Rikku felt a chill creeping up her spine.

"Hey there!" she called, ironic, "Old hunchback monkssss!"

"Hello," a female voice replied.

Rikku jumped, scared. She looked around —no reasonable source. Was she definitely losing her mind?

"Where…are you?" she shakingly addressed the void.

"In the water," replied the smooth-voiced nothingness. From the pavement water rose to form a little pool. She slowly walked towards it, her knees shaking in anticipation. A faint, ethereal glow emanated from the water's surface, casting a delicate radiance.

Crouching down, Rikku peered closely at the shimmering water. "You're curious, child," the sweet voice resonated, filling her with an unexpected sense of tranquillity. Small waves moved in the water; it was like watching inside a perfectly serene diorama, a brand new world, tiny enough to be kept inside a ring box. A water drop jumped on her nose, and Rikku giggled. It tickled. Maybe Faram had drugged her and she was totally tripping.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity, awe and respect.

"My name is Alma, Rikku"

"Hey! How do you know me!?"

"Time is a very singular phenomenon. It grants me knowledge that should remain hidden. And still, I am still trying to understand my role in the story to come."

"Hmmm. Not so different from me," Rikku stated sarcastically, "Are you behind the energy source?"

"No, I am not. But I am linked to it, in a way…"

She was getting tired of riddles, silences and mysteries. Rikku huffed, "Where are you then? You must be somewhere. Or are you a proper talking puddle?"

Silence fell. Her jokes used to land better. Definitely.

"Neo Vetha's hills."

"Enlightening information. No clue where that's supposed to be. Are you a dream, a Fayth or something?"

The voice giggled, "A Fayth? No, I wouldn't say so – will you drop the sarcasm, young lady?" The maternal undertone in Alma's reprimand caught Rikku off guard. A brief moment of silence followed.

"Do you have a face… a body?" Rikku lifted her eyebrows.

"Look better in the waters, you're not looking…"

Rikku squeezed her eyes, and here she was: ripples danced in the shape of a face. Dark long hair, smart cat eyes, and a little smile, touched by gentleness.

"Oh, hello!" Rikku waved her hand and smiled. Talking to a face instead of a puddle was much more encouraging.

"Hello,"

Rikku shifted to sit cross-legged, with her back straight and hands resting on her knees. "Sooo… what and where exactly is this Neo Vetha place?"

"Don't rush, Rikku. This won't be our only encounter, hopefully. Did you see the mountain?" the woman's eyes now held seriousness; the gaze of a commander, but still laced with a balanced kindness.

"Yes! Yes, of course, the mountain! Where is it? I guess I have to reach it… or so says the art piece in the room back here"

"You have to indeed. To do so, take this."

A slender hand made of water emerged from the pool; nestled in its inconsistent palm, a crystal phial. Rikku's eyes widened astonished.

"Eftinan?"

"Exactly," the water woman replied.

Rikku took it and examined it. So small, so lethal. Generations of Pollendina rulers bent to the ritualistic power contained in such a delicate vial— the greatest sin, the most profound shame, covered under a blanket of primitive traditions and usages.

"How?"

"Go towards the Omega Ruins. There, it will react and show you the way. It won't be easy. The barrier… oh, child… Everything is so indefinite right now. But you will make it. You and… Did he come to you?"

Faram. She was surely referring to him.

Rikku nodded. "Who is he…? Why? That ancient picture… I have so many questions… I feel… " Her thoughts raced ahead of her tongue. Alma interrupted her confused soliloquy. "He is someone you can trust with your life; he will watch over you no matter what. But he… he won't trust himself. I know. Help him Rikku. Be his friend. Protect him. And…" her voice grew softer, "If the times call for it…let him… let him go."

Rikku felt a sudden wave of nausea hit her. Alma's words, which sounded like a prophecy, a disgusting otherworldly prediction, awakened something… a memory, an emotion hidden in the heavy fabrics of her past self. Let him go.

That day, the immense Spiran Sea from the airship deck brimmed together with her tears. She could recall the feeling: a big empty slot in everything that existed. A voice missing. His voice forever inaudible; she could've walked blindly following it. She had smiled at him, during those last moments. His scarred eye pierced hers, emotion like fire in it, he was proud, he was happy, he was taller than she had ever seen him: he left her a brand new world.

One without him in it. I let him go. He is gone. That's it.

Fuck that.

"Don't be scared, little one," Alma's voice was sweet, motherly, "Past has a purpose, nothing ever fades in vain. You will see."

Rikku voluntarily decided to silence Alma's words. She had spent too much time trying to explain to herself that what happened had served a purpose. And it had, of course, it had. The world was safe. Until it wasn't anymore. Until she had come to face the truth: no battle is final. There's no status quo holding. Someone had to die and that someone was Auron, but the world wasn't magically cured. Not for her. Not for whoever lost someone…

And then again, this Faram was a stranger. A random man whose arrival coincided with a wave of extreme chaos in her life. Even if necessary to her (unknown!) mission, why would the man agree to embark on this journey? Did he have any reason at all to want that? As far as she knew he was nobody. And here this water woman was, talking about friendship and trust. But the weirdest thing wasn't Alma's encouragement to bond with Faram; the oddity of all oddities was that Rikku felt it. From the moment she saw him, she knew that she could trust him with her life. A blind animal instinct of camaraderie, secure and decisive.

Could she really become Faram's friend? Would he even want that? And why did she find herself caring so much?

"Because you do care, Rikku."

"Mind reading?! Seriously! Gimme some privacy in'ere!"

Alma smiled. Her watery face nodded.

"I will see you on the other side, soon I hope, Rikku. Be strong, be quick, and trust your guts." Then she began to fade.

"Hey! Wait, what am I supposed to do?! Let's assume that the mute man will come with me, we go to Omega and then what? What's the mission once there?! HEY!"

But by then the water entity had already vanished, leaving only a regular pool of water.

Rikku's face twisted in confusion, her voice now just a squirm, "What am I even supposed to pack for this trip?..."

Shivers danced along her skin, and the poison phial felt cold in her grasp. At least she had this now, at least she knew one thing to pack. Suddenly weak, Rikku's knees slid on the stone ground of the temple. She felt exhausted.

She's been in there for nearly two hours. The passage of time was marked only by the subtle shifts of light filtering through the ancient stones.

He was reminded of Braska and Yuna's long prayers in the chambers of the Fayth. He found himself much more impatient than back then, tapping into a restless energy that he struggled to contain.

Leaning his forehead against the rough stone door, Auron strained his ears, longing for any sound that might offer a clue about Rikku's well-being. The questions nagged at him relentlessly: Was she in danger? Was she even still in there? What was going on? And why couldn't he enter the chambers?

He felt nervous and impatient. What was taking her so long? Maybe another dreadful temple trial… one he couldn't help her with.

He had come to resent these religious sanctuaries that always seemed to shroud themselves in mystery. They smelled of déjàvus.

All he could do was wait, and hope. Two things he had already spent almost half his life doing. Fuck that. She was a strong fighter and a powerful healer, while he was still trying to catch up on his skills. She had better chances of survival on her own than he had. Despite repeating this assumption multiple times, he found himself worrying more than he would have liked to admit.

Auron's jaw tightened with frustration. He summoned his inner strength, allowing it to manifest in a forceful blow against the unyielding door. But as the echoes of his effort died down, the door remained obstinately shut. A tense silence followed, each passing second only intensifying his anxiety.

Just as he began losing hope, a faint creak resonated through the air.

She heard a noise.

The door opened, and Faram sprinted towards her. He crouched near Rikku, his hand grabbing her shoulder and checking her for wounds. His touch brought her back to reality. She turned to look at him and smiled. Maybe the water woman was right. Maybe she would try and be a friend of this walking mystery.

"I am alright, Faram." She opened her hand to show him the Eftinan. "I will tell you everything on the way back to Sandara."

Faram's eyes glinted, reflecting the crystal of the phial. The man nodded and got up. In doing the same, Rikku's foot splashed in the water pool.

"HolyShoopuffuckers!"

Faram chuckled. Rikku's eyes opened dramatically.

"HEY!"

Faram began to make his way towards the exit. Rikku stood, looking at him walk. That man…

"I am still injured, you know! You insensitive mute meanie! Say something to my face if you have the guts!"

Faram stopped and turned towards her, irony painted in his hazel eyes.

A whisper. An unheardable whisper in the empty chamber, bouncing from wall to wall to faintly kneel to Rikku's ears, a gentle command, a request if you will: "Come."

Rikku's mouth dropped. A rosy hue swept across her cheeks, a subtle transition anticipating the glow of excitement enlightening her features. She instantly resembled the carefree child she used to be, before seamlessly slipping back into her trademark irreverence.

"Oh Yevon, won't you just shut up for once!" she rolled her eyes, overdramatic.

Auron's muted laughter rippled through the air. He turned without a word, setting a purposeful stride forward, tuning in to the rhythm of her quick steps behind him. A reassuring and renewed sense of purpose washed over him. The path ahead was uncertain, but being by each other's side made it feel a little less daunting.

Notes:

Hello everyone!

I hope you had the best of summers! Mine has been very chaotic, I travelled a lot, which was very nice. I worked hard on this chapter and edited it for days and days, but I guess it's part of the game. I hope you enjoy it. I would love to hear your feedback on how you think the story is moving. Is the pacing too slow or are you finding it enjoyable?

Let me know! Love your kind reviews, I thank you very much 3

See you next time