38: Wrecked
Twenty-two…
Rikku prepared for the shock of entering the cold water, counting the seconds down in her head.
Twenty-one…
She hit the surface with a splash and barrelled under, bubbles streaming past as she sank into the depths.
Seventeen…
She briefly regretted lacking the time to don her goggles, then turned upright. Sculling water, she spun, searching for any sign of Braska.
Fifteen…
The encroaching evening wasn't helping; the existing light was rapidly disappearing, swallowed in the shadows of thrashing bodies and floating debris. Some of them were fiends, Rikku realized, both spawned by and attracted to Sin.
Ten…
Frustrated, she dove deeper into the water. It was impossible to see anything in the murky darkness. Braska could be anywhere; the one thing she knew was that he'd be dragged down, both by his waterlogged robes and lack of swimming ability.
Seven…
She had to find him quickly. In that moment she both hated and loved Brother. At least she knew what to expect, not that it would make the experience suck any less than the first time.
Three…
Air escaped her lungs as she mouthed the words underwater, gesturing. The Thunder spell sparked to life in her hands, scattering her mental count as it crackled around her body. Shock raced through every nerve ending as she pushed the spell outwards.
Sixty?
She revised her count as she lost seconds of breath from her impromptu electrocution.
No, let's go with fifty!
The spell pulsed into the depths, flying in every direction and illuminating the water with an otherworldly glow.
Forty-seven...
She spun, eyes darting back and forth. There – no, that was the scaled hide of a fiend. She pushed back quickly, disengaging before it could attack her.
Forty-five…
Again, a flash lit the depths as she re-cast; she was better prepared for the ensuing shock this time. Something glinted and she surged towards it, only to recognize the metal grating of the ship's grill, also lost to the sea.
Thirty…
Another Thunder spell. Shaking away the aftershocks, she scanned the depths with increasing desperation.
Twenty-seven…
There was a drifting mass below her, still crackling with residual energy from the magic. It was large and ragged – most likely a fiend, if the huge limb-like extensions were any gauge. She dove after it anyway.
Twenty-two…
Hope began to grow when it didn't move to attack her. A final spell illuminated the lumpy figure and something shone in front of it – a staff. Braska's staff! The lumps weren't large, monstrous appendages – they were the trails of his voluminous robes, billowing around him like a dark burst of clouds. He wasn't struggling, but his hand still gripped the weapon and his eyes were purposefully closed.
Eighteen...
At least someone, presumably Raenn, had taught him some Al Bhed deep sea survival skills. He would have been in greater trouble trying to struggle his way to the surface in his outfit. Still, his expression was tightening.
Fifteen… fifteen seconds to reach the surface from here.
Rikku swam towards Braska, grappled through the mounds of loose fabric, and hooked her hands under his arms. He started a little at her touch.
Thirteen…
She grimaced and kicked, powerful strokes meant to bring them up as quickly as possible.
Ten…
The surface seemed so far away. Her muscles protested every moment, twitching from the multiple electrocutions.
Five…
Braska began to convulse, fighting to keep his body from searching for the breath he couldn't take. They weren't going to make it.
Four...
One minute and thirty-seven seconds – that was as long as Braska could last underwater.
Three…
And of that, only seconds were left.
Two...
She stopped swimming and spun to face him, tired and angry. Pinching his nose shut, she pressed her mouth against his and forced it open.
One!
Braska hungrily inhaled, sucking in the air she blew into his mouth. She cut him off; her own lungs were starting to burn. He'd regained control of his body for the moment, at least.
Fifteen seconds extra, maybe?
Grabbing Braska's robes, she hauled them upwards. It was easier now that he was trying to help her, although he still wouldn't release that ridiculous staff. Rikku swore she'd crack it over his head once they were back on solid ground.
They broke the surface at her mental count of eight, gasping for sweet air. The distant screams of humans and fiends surrounded them, but the epicenter of the battle was further away than she'd expected.
"We are so screwed!" she cursed in Al Bhed, as some of the fiends closed in.
"You may be right," Braska agreed, startling her. She'd forgotten he spoke it, too.
Ignoring the telltale fins circling them, she turned to Braska and held up her Godhand. It crackled and snapped as she moved it towards him.
He balked. "What – "
"Do you actually want to drown?" she asked curtly, using her weapon to cut away his robes. She slashed the fabric at the shoulders, and then at his chest, before slicing mercilessly through the wide belt decorated with the symbol of Yevon. The newly-freed robes sunk like a stone. She pulled off his flapping sleeves but didn't discard them immediately.
Grabbing Braska's staff, she hooked it horizontally across her waist. "Get behind me," she said, eying the approaching fins. Nothing like a handicap to make a water fight interesting. "Don't let go of that tysh cdyvv, no matter what happens!" she instructed, lashing his wrists to the weapon with the remains of his sleeves. "And hold your breath if we dive," she added, testing her range of motion.
The sahagin closest to them raised its head above the water.
"Here it comes!" she shouted.
The fiend rushed them, splitting the water into two arcs. She fed it a celestially-powered punch for the trouble; the sudden movement slammed Braska's weight against her and they tipped headfirst into the ocean.
Rikku righted them, spluttering, as the fiend screeched and exploded into pyreflies.
"Are you sure this will work?" Braska asked, coughing.
"It's not like I'm gonna give up and die here!" she answered, trying to find the Pualu beyond the enraged hoard of aquatic fiends that circled them.
"Untie me and let me go," he told her.
Ignoring him, she twisted them to face the next fiend: another sahagin, all razor-sharp fins and pointed teeth. She jabbed it – wheezing as the staff dug into her torso – but it was only a glancing blow. With Braska's dead weight on her back, competing against the fiend's speed was almost impossible.
The sahagin raced past, scoring them with an errant fin; their blood trailed into the sea, inciting the other fiends into a frenzy. The water frothed.
"Rikku, if you let me go – "
"Shut up!" Rikku blocked an attack and reduced another sahagin to pyreflies. The fish were weak, but had them greatly outnumbered. "You said the same thing on the ship! Are you even serious about this whole Pilgrimage?" she tried to joke, scanning the surrounding fiends.
He huffed a tired laugh against her back. "You can still make it back if you swim hard. I'm weighing you down. Literally," he added, somewhat wry.
The remaining fleet of sahagin backed away, clearly agitated by something she hadn't spotted.
That's not good. "You know Auron'd just kill me when I got there," she answered. "Hold your breath." As soon as Braska had inhaled, she dove.
It was easier to maneuver their bound bodies in the water rather than fight against the churning waves; she rotated them in small circles, searching for the source of the sahagins' retreat.
A pair of horns approached and her eyes widened. Rusty gearbuckets! She broke the surface, gasping.
"What is it?"
"Trouble," Rikku told him, turning to face the danger. "I think it's a remora."
The fiend's fins and horns crested and Braska tensed behind her. "That's… quite large," he said. "There's still time – "
"You're not fish bait!" she shouted, headbutting Braska to silence him. He grunted in pain. "Let me concentrate!"
An idea formed as the remora came closer. Well, it's not crazier than anything else we've done so far… She readied her arms, preparing the Godhand. "Hang on!"
The remora leapt at them, its fanged mouth wide and streaming water. Rikku threw herself backwards, dodging out of its path as it came close enough to almost scrape the skin off her nose.
You'd better not die from just this, you ugly fishface! She punched it solidly in the side as it passed. The Celestial weapon heard her request, powering the hit with enough velocity to send her arm clean through the fiend's tail.
The remora thrashed and let out an inhuman scream, yanking them back and forth as it attempted to dislodge them.
Shoulder-deep in the fiend's tail, Rikku grabbed the top fin with her free hand and hung on for dear life as the remora leapt and lifted them out of the water.
"Breathe!" she managed to yell before they hit the ocean again.
The panicked fiend dragged them through the depths, barrelling away at speeds only the Hypello could challenge. Shutting her eyes at the pressure, Rikku mentally counted down the seconds. When they neared one minute, she twisted her arm in the fish's tail.
Another wild thrash whipped them about, but with a few adjustments, she figured out how to force the fiend to surface. She gasped for air as they broke above the water, unable to see more than the dark, churning sea and disjointed flashes of the night sky.
The fiend submerged them again and she tried to work her arm free of its tail. The pattern repeated, precious minutes ticking by.
The remora had moved them away from the immediate danger of Sin's battle, but she had no idea what direction they were travelling. From the fading sense of Sin's toxin, however, it seemed they were being dragged into the middle of nowhere.
Drawing her knees up, she planted her feet on the remora's side. Grunting, she pushed herself away – finally tearing her arm free – and then hit it hard with the Godhand. The Celestial weapon powered up, blasting the fiend into a spiral of pyreflies. With a quick check to make sure it was gone for good, she pushed them towards the surface.
After they broke through, she tried to catch her bearings, heaving air into her lungs. Braska still seemed to be alive, which was good news, although the makeshift ties around his wrists had rubbed his skin raw. That, coupled with the salty water... "You alright?" she gasped, craning her neck.
His fingers flexed around the staff, and she breathed a sigh of relief.
"I could be better," Braska panted, dropping his head against her shoulder. "Sin?"
"It's far away, I think," she said, treading the water. "There aren't any more fiends either. They must all still be at the Pualu." She thought of Auron, dangling inside the nearly flipped boat, just as powerless against gravity as she had been. She thought of the size of Sin's dorsal fin. She thought of Jecht, trying to swim through the debris with Auron's dead weight in his arms. A tickling sensation worked its way up her throat, threatening to erupt into a shrill giggle – panic, she realized, smothering it and giving herself a mental slap.
Braska shuddered; she wondered if he was imagining those same things.
You can't afford to lose your cool. Guard your emotions, then guard your summoner! The stern voice in her head sounded a lot like Auron; it helped calm her nerves. Focusing on their surroundings, she found nothing but dark water swallowing up the starlight as far as she could see.
"And what now?" Braska asked her, quietly enough that the question was almost lost to the sound of the lapping water.
Rikku sighed. "I guess we swim," she said, taking another look at the sky. She'd never been much of a navigator. That job had always been left to Brother – Cid had made sure they were attached at the hip after what had happened to Keyakku on his maiden sea voyage. Still, she knew enough of the constellations to orient herself.
Finding the proper star, she pointed. "That way's north," she explained. "If we keep swimming, we might hit Luca's shoreline. I think we were closer to it than Kilika when Sin hit us. It's our best chance."
"Our only chance," he corrected her. He seemed to pull himself together. "Will you release me now? I can swim."
Rikku snorted, trying to find a comfortable way to perform a stroke without having the staff dig even deeper. Her ribs felt tender; her abdomen was most likely tattooed with a staff-shaped bruise. "Not on your life. I bet you're more exhausted than I am! Just hang on. Kick your legs if you can."
"I wish you didn't have to carry me," Braska mumbled. His head dropped again against her shoulder. She reached around to pull his helmet off, annoyed at the enormous soaked feather that flopped into her eyes. Removing the circlet she'd modified from the helmet's crown, she let everything else sink into the ocean, then shoved the last bit of Braska's protective gear back onto his head.
"First my robes and now my helmet? I won't be recognized if they find us," he joked weakly.
"When they find us," she told him, settling her aching muscles into the rhythm of swimming. "Don't give up. You still have your staff."
"Yes," he agreed, attempting to move his legs in the water as well. "I can still summon. There is always hope."
"That's the spirit," she replied tiredly. Then she gave up on conversation, concentrating on regulating her harsh breaths as they paddled awkwardly through the water, aided only by the dim light of stars.
.x.x.x.
Left. Now the right. Left. Now the right. The words droned in Rikku's head, keeping her focused. Auron's voice was calm and authoritative as he guided Jecht through his sword drills. She smiled – he could be a brutal taskmaster sometimes.
Her head nodded forward and a splash of salty water went up her nose. Snorting and coughing, she resumed her pace, dragging one arm in front of the other. Left. Now the right. Left. I said left! Again, from the beginning! Auron's voice cracked like a whip, and Rikku jerked away from the slumber she'd been drifting towards. Her head bumped against Braska's, who had long since passed out.
The movement roused him. He groaned, then started. "My arms," he hissed. Then, "Rikku?"
"Still alive," she answered, agreeing with his complaint. Her arms felt like they were going to fall off, torn right out of her shoulder sockets. Left. Now the right.
"Rikku? Rikku! You must untie me!"
Shaking herself out of her stupor, she scowled. "You'll fall off and die," she muttered, belatedly realizing she had switched to her native tongue. She swung one arm out again, then the other, a sloppy parody of a proper swimming stroke.
"Listen to me! Myht! There is land!" Braska struggled, pulling her in a different direction. The staff dug into the bruised flesh of her sides.
"Owwie! OWW!" Rikku came to her senses. "Stop it, I'm awake!" She gingerly twisted in the direction Braska was trying to point her towards.
A collection of rocks scattered throughout the water greeted her sight; on closer inspection, they looked like rubble from a destroyed city. Many were simply sharp points rising out of the sea, but a few were large enough to hold a person, perhaps even two if they squeezed. A large structure jutted up from the center of the stones, but she was too far away to tell what it was.
Good enough. She'd take anything at this point. Forcing her tired arms – limp and almost useless – onward, she dragged them to the rocks.
More of the ruin came into view as they neared the one mostly-intact structure towering over them all – once she was close enough, she realized it was a ravaged, partially sunken temple. The roof and a good portion of its walls were missing, but it was unmistakable all the same, even in the darkness.
Of all the places to land… Maybe she was wrong?
"We've reached Baaj," Braska breathed in wonder, confirming her suspicion. "Look at those unweathered stones. These ruins are recent."
The thrill of fear that should have struck her at the mention of the temple was more like a dull, distant whisper. She stroked desperately through the water, energized by the promise of rest.
It became easier when Braska tried to help her. This time, his legs were stronger than her own; he was the one pushing her.
The unending slog continued. Left. Now the right. Left –
"Watch out!" Braska yelled, right before she propelled them into one of the smaller ruins.
She smashed against the raised stone with a gasp; Braska's staff splintered with a sharp crack, and his weight slid from her back.
"Braska!" she shouted, turning to reach for him with reflexes dulled by exhaustion. But, he'd also managed to grab onto the rock. Her heart climbed back down her throat when she saw him. His staff was still tied to his wrists, but it had broken into two rough pieces.
Tiredly, he hauled himself onto a raised outcropping and sat down, his back bowed. Satisfied that he wasn't about to drown after all her hard work, she flopped face first onto the flattened stone shelf below him, not even bothering to pull her legs out of the water. She lay there, revelling in the surprisingly painful sensation of not moving.
Thank machina.
Rikku started to doze, but was rudely awakened by a thunk of wood hitting stone close by her ear. Braska gasped – she opened her eyes to investigate – holding a trembling hand over his bloody wrist, his face tight with pain. Whispering, a weak green glow enveloped his hands and climbed up his arms. The tension on his face eased as his skin knit back together. He sighed in relief before looking down at her listlessly. Then his empty gaze swept to her side.
Confused, she turned her head, wincing as even the muscles in her neck protested the simple action.
One broken half of the summoning staff lay next to her. She moved to grasp it, but her arm spasmed, knocking it off the inclined surface. It hit the water with a soft splash and its tasseled end quickly sunk from view.
"I am completely useless," Braska told her bitterly.
Pushing past the pain of her aching joints, Rikku pulled herself out of the water and sat on her knees. She frowned. "You can still summon without a staff, you know." She thought of Seymour summoning Anima while trying to kill them in Macalania's temple and of Yuna diving off the chapel heights in Bevelle, surrounded by a ring of light before Valefor caught her. "You can do it if you try!"
Braska dropped his head. "Only the greatest of summoners can achieve that," he said, reaching for the lower half of his broken staff. He fumbled it between clumsy fingers, a mirthless grin on his face. "Your faith in me is misplaced."
Gearing up for Pep Talk No. 385, she said, "You're always beating yourself up – "
"No!" His hands clenched and one fist weakly slapped the stone next to him. He hissed in pain. "No. I've already tried." He dropped the remainder of his broken staff into the water. "When you rescued me, I was trying to summon."
She thought of him floating underwater, perfectly still, his face masked in what she now realized was concentration. "You would have drowned when you entered Rapture," she pointed out.
"I'd have had a minute and twenty-odd seconds to do something about it," he answered. Then he looked away. "Had I been successful."
Rikku sat back. Braska was, undoubtedly, a powerful magician; the skill with which he wielded white magic was more on par with Lulu's casual grace than his daughter's hesitant attempts. She'd never stopped to consider that he wouldn't also be a powerful summoner.
After all, Yuna was the most powerful summoner she'd ever seen, defeating every challenger she ever faced – Isaaru, Seymour, Belgemine, and even the corrupted versions of her own aeons in the end. She'd always thought her cousin had inherited those powers from her father. Now, as she picked apart Braska's admittance, she came to understand that the power of a summoner wasn't the strength of one's magic. It was a matter of will.
It was strange sometimes, seeing how different the father and daughter could be, even while they walked the same path.
"You can still work on it," she tried, hoping to lift his spirits.
Braska let out a short laugh, which turned into a pained groan as he tried to roll the stiffness from his shoulders. "I'll have to. The Temple of Baaj was abandoned by Yevon after Sin destroyed the surrounding island settlement. There isn't even a Fayth stored here anymore. We're on our own."
Rikku thought of Seymour. A shiver ran down her back. "Are you sure?"
"Quite." He tried to lift his arms again and winced. She shrugged in sympathy, causing a lance of pain to run down her own arms, dangling at her side like useless ochu tentacles. He gave her a wry smile. "I suppose I could try to heal you with my foot," he offered. "I'm not certain my aim would be accurate, though."
"Let's wait it out until the sun comes up," she replied, slumping against the ledge Braska was sitting on. It was difficult without the use of her arms. She let her legs sprawl and stared at the temple's ominous shadow overhead.
"Then, allow me to tell you why there is no longer a Fayth stored here." Braska nudged her shoulder with a toe; his boots had been lost sometime during their mad escape. Despite his joke, Rikku still twitched when she felt him mumble and channel magic through the contact on her shoulder, closing the wound the sahagin had made and easing the ache in her arms and ribs.
"Showoff," she muttered with a smile, leaning back as the creeping exhaustion returned.
"Baaj was once the home of the aeon Leviathan," Braska began. "A mighty dragon of the sea. They say it was very large, and could channel water magic most effectively. A true beast to be feared."
"Mmm?" Rikku said muzzily. "Never heard of anyone using it…"
"That is because Leviathan was destroyed over two hundred years ago, and the records were suppressed by the Church. It would be too demoralizing to let the people know a Fayth could be killed, and Baaj has always been a seat of controversy and conflict. Did you know the Al Bhed once razed this place to the ground in an attempt to stop the Final Summoning?"
She blinked, lifting her head. "Operation Seasnake. Yeah, we learned about that one in school. I didn't know the city of Baaj was this big though."
"I know you are no fan of the Church, but not all of the Al Bhed's history is proud either," Braska told her pointedly. "Yevon remembers that battle with great sorrow and bitterness. Many innocent people died that day, not just the priests and warrior-monks."
Rikku dropped her head. "History sounds different when you're telling it," she said. "Operation Seasnake was supposed to be one of our greatest accomplishments."
"History is written by the victors. The truth of things is much harder to discover," Braska replied.
"The truth isn't whatever your Yevonite history books told you," she muttered. Anger roused her, giving her a spark of energy. "You know they lie about us. We're easy targets, we always have been!"
"Whatever the truth really is has been hidden by time," Braska conceded. "And the city of Baaj endured, surviving everything but attacks from Sin itself. The one this year was decisive, of course."
They both eyed the ruins, evidence of the newly-slain corpse of Baaj.
"But, that is not how Leviathan was lost," Braska continued, "it was Sin's assault on the temple two centuries ago that cracked the Fayth stone and destroyed the aeon. They say summoner Kisaragi was in Rapture when it happened. He died the moment the aeon did, when the connection between them was permanently broken."
Rikku shivered. So, that's why the Final Summoning is fatal. Yu Yevon's mindless thirst for a host broke the bond between an aeon and summoner, even during Rapture. He really was the one summoner left in Spira more powerful than Yuna at the end. "That's an awful way to go."
"Perhaps so. But even from the ashes of that defeat, a victory arose. His daughter followed in his footsteps and defeated Sin less than a decade later. That Calm was a golden era for Baaj, despite the loss of the Fayth."
Shifting uncomfortably at the parallels to Braska and Yuna's own story, she shook her head. "I don't like it here. This place gives me the creeps."
"I feel sorrow to see it reduced to this," he told her. "Baaj was a great hope for Yevon. They say the first half-Guado was to become high priest of the temple here. Empty though it may be, his position would still have been a powerful symbol. A pity that that, too, was wiped away by Sin."
"You know about Seymour?" Rikku asked.
His brow furrowed. "Was that the young man's name? There were only rumors among the higher echelons in my order, ones which I stopped being privy to when I fell out of favor," he admitted with a disappointed shrug. "How did you learn of him?"
Oh, he just tried to kill us about sixty million times with his mom and his army of Guado sycophants, Rikku thought. "We have good spies," was what she said instead.
"I see," agreed Braska, though he clearly didn't. They were both too tired to press the issue, so instead he slid down from his ledge. She scooted over as much as possible on the tiny perch. He flopped down beside her with an atypical lack of grace; his feet splashed into the water.
"We're both gonna be soggy, armless wonders when the sun rises," she said with a weary laugh.
"Then, at least we will be a matched pair," he replied with a faint smile.
Her grin faded, and she looked over the ruins. "Do you think Auron and Jecht will be okay?" she asked in a small voice. She knew Auron couldn't swim and kicked herself for not forcing lessons on him earlier.
"If they work together, they can accomplish the impossible," Braska answered.
She snorted. "Them working together? That's already pretty impossible." She laughed, then again, and again, and found she couldn't stop. It wasn't that funny. Another laugh tumbled out of her, and she didn't even have the energy to be mortified when she noticed she was crying.
Braska pressed his knee against hers. "Rikku. They'll be fine. Auron and Jecht are survivors. It's only a matter of days before they come here. Auron will be leading the charge of course, complaining about the length of time it took to find us, and Jecht will bestow us with pearls of wisdom about the journey."
She hiccuped, another ugly sob stuttering out of her chest. "I-I-I didn't even apologize after we fought!" She thumped her head against the ledge. "Not fair! Why'd this have to happen now? I just told him I loved him!"
Managing to move his hand toward hers with a grimace, he touched her wrist. "All will be well. You are simply tired. Let go of your worries and rest now."
If she hadn't known better, she might have suspected Braska had cast a sleep spell on her. But there was no tingle of magic that accompanied his soft touch, merely the soothing tones of his voice as he launched into an old children's tale of a beautiful summoner and the valiant Guardian who loved her.
Still, even as she felt herself giving in to her exhaustion, she turned her head against Braska's shoulder, bothered by a niggling desire to have the final word. "Don't like the story of Yunalesca and Zaon much," she grumbled.
"What a strange girl you are," Braska murmured as she drifted away.
.x.x.x.
For Rikku, sleep was an uneasy thing, plagued by nightmares – of darkness, Sin, and drowning. She dreamed of Auron, his face pale and still, drifting through the water. She couldn't reach out, arms bound by bands of hot iron against her sides. Odd flashes of murky green light burst around them, and she struggled to free herself. Auron opened one eye, his face aging while the hair at his temples turned grey.
Her mouth flew open, expelling the breath she'd been holding.
"Worry about yourself," he told her. "I am already – "
"NO!" Rikku sat up with a gasp, then caught herself as she fell halfway into cool water. She whimpered as reality refocused – she could move her arms again, at least, but sweet machina, it hurt. Gingerly, she pulled herself back against Braska's side.
He was still sleeping and looked exhausted by their journey. His long braid, usually impeccably groomed, lay in a limp and tangled mess to one side. The tattered remains of the layered robe she'd brutally refashioned still clung around his neck and shoulders. Underneath the ripped cloth, he was wearing a much more familiar-looking undershirt and patterned pair of shorts. His feet were bare.
Daylight was approaching – by noon, they'd be baking in the stifling heat without shelter – but at the moment, she was more concerned with the chill Braska was likely feeling. She wasn't much better off, still dressed in her skimpy yellow bikini and ribboned sleeves from the Blitzball game.
One of the sleeves was not-so-ribboned anymore; the arm she had hooked through the remora had reduced most of it to shaggy tatters. With a shrug, Rikku pulled it off. Checking her pouches, she grimaced. Their luck throughout the Pilgrimage so far had taught her never to travel unprepared, but the bulk of her clothes, supplies and even her twin daggers were with her pack – most likely on the bottom of the ocean floor. Or, worse yet, lost somewhere in Sin's gigantic belly.
Her eyebrow twitched. We finally hit it big in Luca, and what does Sin do? Eat our money!
The indignation was doing wonders to warm her up. Sifting through her remaining supplies, she found a minor healing draught and downed it, sighing as the potion eased the residual ache in her arms.
Braska stirred. "Unn," he groaned, wincing. "I'm getting too old for this." He rolled his shoulders with another wince, then cast a healing spell over himself, exhaling with relief.
"Morning," Rikku said with forced cheer. "I could use some of that too, you know!"
"Good morning, Rikku," he said, sending a soothing wash of magic over her.
She nearly cried as the crippling soreness receded into a barely-noticeable twinge. Twisting her arms experimentally, she smiled in thanks. "Wow, I needed that. And what do you mean, too old for this? You're almost the same age as Auron and Jecht. Isn't that what people usually call the prime of their lives?"
Braska stared at her, then laughed. "Is that what you think? What a wonderful way to start my morning."
"What? What'd I say?"
He shook his head, grinning, and clambered to his feet. Removing the remains of his old robe, he examined the tattered flaps with regret. "We should find shelter and food. I haven't any supplies, and I doubt you're much better off."
Rikku scrambled to her feet as well, her curiosity ignited. "Hey, don't think I'm gonna let this go! I'll totally bug you about this for the entire time we're stuck here. That could be days! Weeks!"
"Isn't that all the more reason to find shelter inside of the Temple?" Braska asked, giving her an innocent look.
She wasn't fooled. "Nice try, but you can't distract me that easily," she warned, putting her hands on her hips.
Braska pursed his lips. "Rikku. It's poor manners to demand the age of your travelling companions."
"We're shipwrecked in some abandoned ruins in the middle of nowhere with no rescue in sight, and you're worried about me being polite?" She scratched her head. "You'd worry about me being polite even if we were in the middle of Luca right now?"
He sighed. "True. Still, we have more pressing concerns, don't we?" He looked towards the abandoned tower. "I believe I could manage to swim across these waters on my own."
Judging the distance between their small isle of respite and the larger ruin, Rikku nodded in agreement. "Okay, I hear a 'but' in there. What's up?"
Face tightening, Braska turned to her. "I truly am useless right now. I would not be of any assistance in a battle, should we meet resistance." Slight anger bled into his expression. "It seems I will have to completely rely on you once again. I am sorry."
"Don't apologize!" She couldn't understand Braska's extreme mood swings – from his usual optimism into this fatalistic pessimism. Was it some kind of self-esteem thing? "You already healed us, didn't you? That's something!"
"It's not enough," he said sharply, before exhaling through his nose. "My apologies. I should not take my temper out on you. It is my failing, not yours."
"You're a real ball of fun right now, you know?" she said. "But, since you're so bent out of shape about this..." Reaching down, she unclasped her garment grid. "It should still fit you, unless you ate a lot of lobster specials while you were in Luca."
Braska took the belt with a look of surprise. "But, what of yourself? This is your weapon. What will you…"
She held up the Godhand and made the extensions click together like pincers.
"I see," he finished meekly, donning the belt. It snapped into place and he sucked in a breath. "Thank you, I think."
"You think?" Rikku tossed her hair. "You're wearing one of the greatest machina inventions known to Spira and you're not sure it's a good thing?"
"I'm not certain I want to activate any of your… dresses," he amended, touching the various spheres.
"You did fine with the Alchemist dressphere before," she told him. "And it's not like the Lady Luck sphere will put you in a dress. It changes to suit the personality of the user." She paused, considering Braska's love of sweeping, heavy robes. "Although, if you like wearing dresses…"
"Why thank you, Rikku," Braska said dryly. "I am touched by that assumption." An uncomfortable look passed over his face. "But will it make me think and react like… Jecht?"
She blanched. "Yeah… maybe you should stick to the offensive dresspheres." She pointed at the key spheres on the belt. "That one's the Alchemist. It comes with a gun, but you probably don't really need it because it's more of a healing outfit. Over here is the Songstress – skip that if you can. It's a little, uh, haunted." Braska looked uneasy at her explanation. "And the last one we've got is the Samurai – probably your best bet if you need to fight something in close quarters, but don't use it underwater…"
She trailed off, thinking of how they'd left Auron on the sinking ship. "Auron… he can't swim."
"I will try not to use it at all," Braska told her, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Perhaps the black magics contained in your belt will be enough to tide us over."
Wiping her suddenly damp eyes, she gave Braska a watery smile. "Just don't cast any Thunder spells underwater, either. I've had enough of that for a lifetime."
"Duly noted," he promised, straightening. "Are you ready?"
"As I'll ever be," Rikku said. "Lemmie go first, just in case." At Braska's nod, she took a deep breath and dove into the water to survey the surrounding area. The telltale flicker of fins warned her that it wasn't exactly safe, but nothing larger than a piranha seemed to inhabit the ruins. The water was also shallower that she expected; still too deep to walk through, but not a yawning pit of fathomless depths as she'd initially feared. Satisfied, Rikku surfaced.
"It's not that deep," she called out, waving. "There aren't too many fiends, either. I think you're good!"
Braska waded into the water and kicked off into a slow dog paddle.
Rikku wrinkled her nose. "Really?" she asked as he splashed his way over to her.
"I never claimed to be good at swimming, merely that I could manage it," he huffed.
"Yeah, well, you're gonna call every piranha around to us if you keep splashing like that," she chided. "Follow my lead. Swim like you're bellysliding over the water. If you wanna go fast, stretch your arms out more. Think of them like your propellers!"
She swam in freestyle circles to demonstrate. "If you wanna see where you're going, then stick your arms forward like this. You don't need to keep your nose out of the water completely either, just go slowly and don't splash too much. And kick your legs out like a frog!" She circled around him again. "Got it?"
"No," Braska said, giving it a try. After a few uncoordinated strokes and sputters, he seemed to get the hang of it. "But, I think I can manage this."
"Great! You know how you can thank me?"
Braska angled towards the temple and swam slowly forward. "By reaching our goal sometime this morning?"
Rikku smirked, catching up to him easily. "By telling me how old you are."
"Sorry. I'm concentrating on swimming," he replied, ignoring the tongue she stuck out at him.
The rest of their watery journey passed with only a few words exchanged – "Piranha, I got it!" or, "Can we rest for a moment? My arms are still weak," and one, "Hey, you think we can eat that?" After a short repurposing of one of her belt pouches, Rikku was also placed in charge of chasing after their lunch.
Finally, they climbed onto the steps and entered the broken temple. Braska flopped onto his back. "That was quite a workout," he breathed.
"What work? I'm the one who killed all the wildlife," Rikku told him, fingers tight on her makeshift fishnet. She opened the pouch and spilled its contents. Two large, silvery fish flopped in protest; she quickly put them out of their misery. "I also got us some lunch," she added, setting her weapon aside to clean the catch with her small tooling knife. "Think you can start a fire?"
Braska sat up, surveying the broken remains of the antechamber. "That may not be the best idea," he warned her. "The last time I tried, I brought half of the forest down upon us. These walls do not seem very stable."
She paused and looked up, a fish still in hand. "Well, you gotta learn how to control it sometime," she mused. "At least here, there's no roof to fall on us. Find something burnable and give it a try!" She refocused on her task and left Braska to the job of making their camp. After a few moments, the sounds of objects being dragged and dropped ceased, and a peaceful silence settled.
Finally. A break from all that excitement. She started gutting the second fish.
Then, she nearly skinned her arm as a loud explosion rang through the temple, shaking the foundation and sending dust and silt flying from the walls. A larger piece of stone crumbled backwards and fell into the water with a loud splash. Rikku turned around, eyes wide.
Braska was pointing at the firepit with a surprised expression, his face and formerly white shirt now stained black with soot. The small fire pit he'd cobbled together was smoking, the rocks welded together by intense heat. A few embers still glowed in the center of the pit, sending tendrils of smoke into the air.
"Yeah," she said dazedly. "Maybe I should take care of the fire next time."
"It wasn't as bad as my first attempt," Braska told her, moving aside as she grabbed the prepared fish and lay them across the smoking coals.
"You're a natural," Rikku told him, and he gave her a small smile of gratitude. "A natural disaster," she added with a smirk and his smile fell. "Now, tell me how old you are!"
Braska sighed and sat back, reaching for his ragged braid. "Would you happen to have a comb amongst your supplies?" he asked.
Rikku pointed at her own shock of messy, braided hair.
"I suppose not," he added, unplaiting the tangles. "You should take better care of your own. Your hair will only treat you as kindly as you treat it."
She rolled her eyes and slumped back onto her elbows. "That's what Auron said, too!" Her good mood evaporated.
Braska paused, then sighed. "Rikku, I am…" He trailed off, studying her face, and seemed to understand that another apology wouldn't lighten the atmosphere. "... thirty-five."
"Yeah," Rikku said, only half-hearing his words. Then she fell backwards. "Wait a sec! Thirty-what?" she repeated, scrabbling over to Braska to pull his cheek. "But you look younger than Auron!" She sat back, dumbfounded. "What's your secret?"
Braska colored, rubbing his cheek. "Living well?" he tried.
Frowning, she poked him. "Try again."
"Contentment," he said after a moment. "I suppose that is it. I have made peace with who I am, what I have done, and… what I am to do." Then he smirked. "Having inherited the most fortunate features of both of my parents may also play a minor role."
"That is so not fair," she pouted, still wondering at Braska's ageless baby face. "Yunie's gonna have it made when she gets old."
His smile widened. "I enjoy the idea of Yuna living to a ripe old age."
Her heart twinged; it had a worrying habit of doing that whenever Braska spoke about the future. "We can make it happen somehow," she said, trying to rally herself into a better mood.
"...Rikku," Braska said, soft and soulful.
"Hmm?" she asked, staring at him. Blue eyes, like the sky on a sunny day. Braska was so hard to push away; he was so full of genuine affection for the world and everything in it that his feelings almost demanded a response from anyone surrounding him. What am I going to do with you?
"I think your fish is burning," he continued, still soft and soulful.
"Ack!" She jumped, fumbling for her tools as the smell of charred fish filled the air. She scowled and heard Braska's chuckle. Did he just pull one on me? She shot a suspicious glance at him, passing over a hot fish.
"Why, thank you," Braska said, the picture of graciousness and propriety as he accepted the meal. With his perfect posture and unbound hair spilling around him, he could have passed for refined nobility. Only the soot stains running across his forehead and shirt ruined the effect.
Rikku stubbornly ignored him, eating around the burned portion of her own meal. "You do stuff like that on purpose, don'tcha?"
He carefully pulled off a large flake of meat and blew on it, before meeting her eyes. "Stuff? I'm afraid you'll have to be a bit more specific, I've no idea to what you are referring." He popped the morsel into his mouth and chewed, his eyes trained on hers, then licked his thumb. Slowly.
"Stuff," she repeated, scowling. "Like that. Geez, no wonder you drive Auron up the wall."
Braska lowered his gaze and picked at the fish. "I suppose it is in my nature to tease. I enjoy my small rebellions against other peoples' expectations. It's amusing to test the limits of acceptance when others refuse to see beyond a priest's robes."
"What a rebel," she deadpanned, pulling a bow off of her remaining sleeve and holding it out. "By the way, you look like you cleaned a chimney with your face." He plucked the rag out of her hand with aplomb, not even flinching when she continued to needle him. "Did you spend all your time in the monasteries looking up the nuns' skirts too?"
Braska managed to look offended even as he wiped his face clean. "You think me so uncivilized? Of course not. I only approached other willing deviants."
He… couldn't be serious. My uncle's a perv?
He smirked at the frozen expression on her face. "Such a pedestal you ask me to stand on! I'm still a man, like any other."
"Not really," Rikku recovered, banishing her thought – hopefully forever. "You married an Al Bhed. Nobody does that. Besides other Al Bhed I mean."
"True… I suppose it was my unorthodox manner that first caught Raenn's eye. I do not think she would have found a proselytizing missionary the least bit attractive otherwise." He sighed. "But, that was so long ago. I have been, as you would say, good, for many years now."
Rikku nibbled on her fish, her appetite vanishing with the knots in her stomach. It was nice, getting to know more about Braska, but it also felt like she was sparring with him. His newfound playfulness and good humor were rubbing her the wrong way, as if he was testing her for something… and she didn't really understand the stakes in their battle of wits. She decided to cut to the chase, disliking the nuanced circles he was running around her.
"Is this 'cause you're gonna die soon?"
Braska's expression darkened, and he tossed the remains of his meal into the fire. He glared. "And what if I said yes? What would you do?" He tilted his head, his long hair shifting in the breeze. "Would you try to run from me, trapped as you are here?"
He wasn't supposed to admit to it! He never admits it! This attention he was giving her, his flirting – because that's really what it was, she had to acknowledge – was all wrong. "I don't love you," she told him.
"I don't care," he answered her. "Besides. You are lying."
Her surprise was quickly followed by indignation. "Excuse me?" It was the same feeling of having Auron's hand on her hip, as though she was merely an accessory to his own thoughts and desires. Why was everyone trying to push her into a position she hadn't chosen for herself? It made her bristle.
"You do not wish to be in a relationship with me," Braska said. "You want that of Auron. That is his one weakness, you know. He has never learned how to care for other people. It would be much simpler if you merely wanted to sleep with him."
"Uh, well," Rikku fumbled, caught flat-footed because he was right, at least about that. "Fine, okay, that's true, and we're working on it, thank you very much, but why'd you call me a liar?"
Braska parted his hair and began to meticulously braid it. "You have put yourself into danger for my sake for no good reason, repeatedly. There were many times you could have simply walked away and allowed me to die. There were times I wished you would, as it would spare both myself and Auron much anxiety." His fingers worked quickly, securing the now-neatened end of the braid with the small strip of cloth she'd given him from her sleeve. "I've heard the cry of your beating heart even over the silence of your closed mouth."
Rikku looked away, thinking of the way Auron had touched her just two nights ago. He'd tried to convey his feelings through his fingertips, even as they'd verbally clashed.
"I've often wondered why you feel so strongly," Braska continued. "I have not done anything to earn your loyalty, not in the manner I have earned Auron's over our years of friendship. Yet you are as true to me as he is." Finishing, he stood up and walked over, seating himself by her side. "It isn't the blind obedience of the faithful," he mused. "You have never adhered to the Teachings, nor treated me as a holy man." His hand snaked out and caught her chin, lifting it. "Nor am I a strategic piece to be arranged in your people's war against Yevon. It's a mystery." He leaned forward. "I'm intrigued."
Rikku leaned back, avoiding closer contact with him. How am I supposed to tell him I love Yuna? Another thought occurred and made her scoot a little further away. How am I supposed to tell Yuna her dad hit on me? A lot? "Maybe you could get unintrigued?" she tried weakly. "We might be stuck here for a few days, but we're gonna get out of this eventually. Let's not… mess up what we've got right now by making things sticky."
Braska's expression contorted. "Word choice," he told her, covering his face with a hand to hide his sudden mirth.
She flushed and bounced to her feet. "I didn't mean it like that! I meant, uh, tangled!"
His shoulders quaked. "Really, you're worse than Jecht. You don't even plan these lapses, do you? It all happens subconsciously?"
"Well, you're getting me all mixed up!" Rikku yelled, stomping her foot. "Just… stop it! Stop thinking those dirty thoughts!" She paused. "Old man!"
"Now now," he chided, also standing and brushing himself off. "You shouldn't be bitter simply because I'm beautiful."
"Errgh!" she yelled, throwing her arms up into the air. "I should just take my belt and leave you here to rot!"
Braska clasped his arms behind his back. It reminded her a little of Yuna, and her frustration fizzled away.
"You're right," he said. "We'll undoubtedly find a way to free ourselves of this mess and continue with the Pilgrimage." He glanced around the abandoned temple and the lonely ruins beyond it. "But until then, won't you allow me to express myself candidly? I promise, I won't force you into anything. I simply want…" He trailed off, his voice full of longing.
She watched him, unsure. He was being so honest with her, voicing his opinions and feelings with little of his characteristic reservation. And yet the undercurrent she had always sensed in him was still there, uncomfortably raw and exposed. Now, instead of focusing that passion on his own Pilgrimage, Braska's attention was completely directed towards her.
"... I want to be allowed to want again," he finished. "To hoard this desire for myself, just for one moment in my journey. Can I not be allowed even that much?" He turned to Rikku and tangled his fingers into a loose bit of her hair. "I won't hurt you. Never that. No matter what you think of me, at least allow me to keep your trust."
She blinked. His hand dropped away.
"We're wasting time," she said uncertainly. "We need to work together to see if there's anything useful in this temple." Not waiting for his answer, she sought out the door to the Cloister. He followed after a slight moment of hesitation, and was soon at her side, helping her push open the heavy doors.
When they'd created enough space to squeeze through, she stopped and leaned on her knees. She could feel Braska watching her. "Maybe we should just… you know," she mumbled, pointing a thumb toward the temple's depths.
He nodded. "After you," he said, tracking her with banked intensity.
Rikku turned her back on him, but still heard his soft words as she stepped forward.
"You can run from what is between us for the moment. But you can't hide indefinitely."
Tysh cdyvv= damn staff
Rusty gearbuckets! = Al Bhed profanity
Myht! = Land!
This site is having some problems displaying reviews at the moment. It'll probably clear itself up in a week or two, so please, I still encourage people to leave htem. I will see them eventually! Many thanks to my (two) betas for helping this chapter limp along.