28: Ancient History

Chasing after Auron and Braska in the makeshift warrior-monk camp was not going to go down in history as one of Rikku's finer moments.

"You can leggo now, I'm fine," Jecht groused as she dug her fingers into the man's meaty forearm. He scowled as her grip only tightened around his elbow in response. "Look, I know a few new scars add to a man's mystery, sweetheart, but this property's taken – "

Rikku rolled her eyes upwards and turned her grip into a sharp pinch on the delicate skin of Jecht's inner elbow. It did cause him to let out a high-pitched yelp of pain, cutting him off effectively.

"I know you're a big strong man and you can handle near death experiences really well, but this isn't about you! Help a girl out with her social anxiety, alright?"

Jecht snorted at her. "That ain't like you," he noted, but he also didn't push her arm off.

Rikku cast her eyes to the left and right and scooted a little closer. While it might have been her overactive imagination, it felt like a thousand hostile stares were piercing even more holes into her already tatty linen cloak. She pulled the worn cloth closer around her neck, knowing that it actually made no real difference. Their party's entrance to Djose had been nothing short of spectacular, considering how they'd ridden in on a wave of sinspawn and Shiva's ice crystals. Everyone stationed there had already seen and heard their ragtag Pilgrimage arrive in the loudest, most explosive way possible.

And it wasn't even a good entrance at that – the days of Y-R-P!ing in with a practiced smile and a well-rehearsed pose were definitely over, Rikku admitted with a wince.

Instead, Yevon's crack troops were witness to a disgraced summoner unable to control his own powers, a formerly respected monk who had been ejected from their own ranks, an Al Bhed heretic and an unconscious Blitzball lunatic crashing straight into Djose, right in the middle of Sin's attack.

Rescued! They had needed to be rescued! In retrospect, it made the act of attempting to disguise herself behind her robes seem even more pointless, and Rikku straightened her shoulders with a sigh of surrender.

Trying to armor herself against the worst of the glares, she considered the mix of monks and crusaders surrounding them. People were always subdued after one of Sin's rampages, but even here she could see conversation dying off as she and Jecht strode past tents, then picking up again in silent, pointed whispers behind them. It could get worse, she figured. Kinoc himself could have been stationed with the battalion camped outside of Djose's temple. Rikku wasn't eager to find out if he was actually there; she was more than willing pass on any possible chance of meeting him. Their first encounter in Bevelle seemed like decades ago in her mind, but even that distance couldn't stop her from remembering the way his lecherous gaze had crawled up and down her body. With an involuntary shiver, she eyed the other warrior-monks milling around, wondering how much of Kinoc's leadership would inevitably rub off onto his troops. Looking up, she saw Jecht's frown as his calloused hand came up to cover hers.

"You alright?" he grunted, the first notes of actual concern trickling into his voice. "Somethin' happen while I was out?"

"It's nothing." Rikku plastered an absent smile on her face to mask her discomfort, still keeping her close proximity to Jecht. "I'll be fine as soon as we're out of here," she muttered through her clenched teeth, meeting the stare of yet another silent monk as they passed by. "Have you seen Auron or Braska yet?"

Jecht answered her with a grunt and quickened their pace, drawing them away from the makeshift barracks and towards the entrance of the small inn just outside the temple. Rikku felt her shoulders loosening as they left the immediate company of Yevon's faithful army and entered more neutral ground. She spotted Braska and Auron, both tense, waiting near the concessions counter.

"Chin up, eyes forward!" Rikku yelled at them with false cheer, waving. Braska graced them with a weak smile, but as expected, Auron didn't smile at all.

"I'm glad to see you are feeling better," Braska said, his eyes running over Jecht and pausing as he assessed the new scars. A fleeting look of pain flickered across his eyes before he smoothed his features. "Did you encounter any problems exiting the camp?"

Jecht shrugged, dislodging Rikku and pointed a thumb at her. " 'Sides the little lady here worryin' about nothin', not really." He scowled as he took in his three companions, each drawn with more tension than he was used to seeing. "What gives? Why're you all lookin' like we're about to enter a Blitzoff with a losin' team?" His brows rose as he took in Auron's stony countenance, which was even more intimidating than his usual game face. "Even you, ice-man?"

Auron let out a gusty sigh and unfolded his arms. He tilted his chin at the camp they'd just exited and narrowed his eyes. "It seems no matter how far from Bevelle we travel, the hand of Yevon continues to reach out to cast shadows over us all."

Braska dipped his head with a wry smile. "Some of these shadows are of our own making, Auron."

Auron's expression tightened, and he turned to Braska. "My lord, what happened was not your fault – "

"Hey!" Rikku chimed in, breaking her uncharacteristic silence before chewing on a fingernail. "All this doom and gloom is great, I mean, par for the course with the Yevon and all that, but we have more important questions to answer. You know, like are they after us?"

Jecht scratched his head, nonplussed. "Why would they be after us? We ain't done nothing wrong, right?" At the extended silence, his eyebrows shot up. "Right?"

Braska coughed into his hand. Auron grit his teeth. Rikku pointed at herself and gaped.

"I feel like I'm missin' something here," he answered blankly. As Rikku opened her mouth, he waved her down. "Well, besides you. I already got this Al Bhed stuff down. You hate 'em, they hate you, we all hate each other, big deal."

Rikku eyed the others and sighed. "Let's get inside. I can feel those guys staring at us. We can walk and talk, right?" As they made their way towards the temple entrance, she stopped and looked back at the camp, her brow furrowing. "I'm surprised they're not asking for your help though. Usually there's a lot of Sending needed after Sin hits the coast."

Braska shook his head. If his feathers could droop, they probably would. As it was, the way his posture bowed was a story in and of itself. "I did offer my services, and there were a few who accepted… among the civilians." He attempted a smile at Jecht's puzzled look. "Sending the souls of the departed to the Farplane is one of a summoner's primary duties. We allow those who have passed to find peace, preventing their restless souls from turning into fiends. Even so, there are many among the warriors who feel strongly about allowing one such as myself to perform that sacred ritual."

"Because of us Guardians?" Jecht asked, for once displaying something akin to tact rather than pointing his finger at Rikku.

"Not just us," Auron interrupted. "Braska married into the Al Bhed." He paused. "And not just any Al Bhed. Raenn was the sister of Cid, leader of the Al Bhed tribe. It was seen by many in the Church as the greatest of betrayals."

This news made Jecht stumble to a stop. "Wait, doesn't that make Blondie here like a princess or somethin'?"

Rikku tripped over air and bit back a laugh. "Are you for real?" she managed, wiping at her eyes. "We don't pass down leadership, that's dumb! Every tribe votes in whoever they want, and the tribe that yells the loudest usually gets the reins." She pointed to herself. "My family's been in the running for years because we've always been really good at tinkering. But saying we rule the Al Bhed would be like saying the wind rules the desert. All Cid really does is bluster at a whole bunch of grains of sand and hope they move in the same direction."

She didn't add in that as Cid's daughter, one of the foremost synthesists in the world and companion to the vanquisher of both Sin and Vegnagun, many people had actually taken up to calling her just that, "the Al Bhed Princess." It was a nickname that didn't carry any social weight, and it was also one she didn't particularly appreciate, as it came with a whole lot of ribbing around the friends who knew her best. Damn Gippal and his catchy pet names.

Braska nodded in agreement. "Yes, those who have been amongst your people know this. The Al Bhed detest following authority, even within their ranks. It is rare, however, for someone raised within the strict structure of the Church to grasp, let alone understand their unique, chaotic concept of self-rule."

He stopped as they reached the foot of the stairs leading to the temple doors, eyeing them pensively. The usual honor guards stationed there had been forgone in the wake of Sin's attack; besides, an entire encampment of soldiers now stood directly before the temple itself. A few nuns bustled in and out of the stone building, but they all seemed busy trying to control the damage wrought by Sin and paid little attention to the summoner's party.

"I may as well have declared open war on Yevon with my actions. It is a wonder they allowed me to stay in Bevelle as it is," Braska finished, avoiding the curious gaze of a passing nun.

"Huh." Jecht rubbed his chin. "But what about you?" He directed his question at Auron this time.

Auron stilled, his jaw working for a moment as he tried to address Jecht's question. "It isn't that simple."

Rikku reached out, touching his arm, and he flinched away from her. Bits and pieces, she knew the official version of The Legendary Guardian Auron's story as well as any other Spiran. The warrior-monk who rose to greatness within the Church, and then used that greatness to propel Braska to become the Champion of Yevon, rather than settling for the title of a Maester for himself. He, alone among the Guardians of recent memory, had lived to tell the tale of the High Summoner's Pilgrimage.

Well, Rikku thought to herself. We all know how accurate Yevon's revisions of history are. Still, curiosity was consuming her; Tidus hadn't shared much about Auron when they were together, and the man himself had only talked about his past when push came to shove. Typically only when other overpowered Unsent like Seymour or Yunalesca were doing the shoving, at that.

Determined, she reached out and grasped his arm again. "Come on, Auron. It helps, letting those secrets out to your friends." She smiled at him, and his posture softened as he gave her a miniscule nod.

"To understand their hatred, you must understand what the warrior-monks are," Auron began, facing the small tent-barracks built before the temple. "For many years, there was open warfare between the Church of Yevon and the Al Bhed. Defending the people from Sin has always been the primary reason for the existence of the crusaders, but the warrior-monks were established to enforce the teachings of Yevon to the wider world. By whatever means necessary."

"Uh-huh, so them crusaders are like the cops, but them monks are like the army, right?" Jecht gestured at the groups of soldiers scuttling about.

Auron's eyes grew clouded. He unhitched his sword and sat on the steps, his body sagging.

Rikku could barely contain her shock; she could see Braska in a similar state. Auron the proud, Auron the stoic – he never bowed, he never stopped, he never rested. But for all intents and purposes, he seemed to have melted onto the roughly hewn stone steps. He looked… like his older self in that moment, Rikku realized. Exhausted. Both powered and weighted by the force of his regrets.

"The crusaders are the hope of the people. The dreams of the young, the idealistic. They're just children, some of them." He clasped his hands together and leaned forward onto his knees, gazing over the soldiers milling about their camp. "They were folded into the arms of Yevon long ago, but only after their leader, Lord Mi'ihen, proved their worth to the Church. It had been a struggle, won by the humility and heroism of one lone man. That struggle and heroism appeals to the youth of today, much more than the strict mores of the nuns and the warrior-monks. The crusaders have attracted the more independent members of Yevon's faithful in recent times. This new idealism has once again put them at odds with the Maesters."

Only Braska seemed to have any idea of what Auron was speaking of; Rikku watched cluelessly as Braska sat, albeit with more grace, next to Auron and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You can't protect everyone, Auron," he said. "Are you not the one who told me to choose my battles?"

Auron smiled wryly and dropped his forehead against his clasped hands. "And look at the choice you have made."

Braska squeezed his shoulder and released it. "My choices were never your burden to carry, my friend."

Gathering himself, Auron looked up from his seat towards Jecht. "I was initiated into the order of the warrior-monks at the age of thirteen. It had been my whole life. The monks do not look kindly upon… idealism." His gaze cut over to Rikku, and she nodded in understanding. Every Al Bhed knew the blind, vicious devotion to Yevon carried by the warrior-monks. Fanaticism was an integral part of their training. It was what made them so good at killing – especially the things that weren't fiends. It was a lesson no Al Bhed community had managed to escape learning during the wars; the monks had even assisted Seymour in the destruction of her own Home.

"It wasn't until I met Braska that my own opinions began to soften," he continued. "Until then, I was merely an unquestioning tool of Yevon. A well-honed blade in the service of Church. When Braska became a missionary, I was appointed as his bodyguard for several reasons. My skill, my good standing within the monks, and the understanding that if Braska's mission of outreach to the Al Bhed failed, I would provide the Church with a simpler method of saving them." He fingered the hilt of his sword and avoided looking at Rikku.

A numb silence settled in Rikku's mind. Auron? An assassin? A spy? Both? Was he sent to find Home or kill my father? Or maybe kill all of us, Keyakku and Brother and me too? Her stomach flip-flopped as she processed the information. She wouldn't have put it past Mika to issue a kill order on Cid's entire family, but the fact that Auron hadn't freaked out about the revelation of her real name gave her some hope. Maybe Yevon wasn't always in the business of killing children. Then again, Yunie had only been seventeen when she started her Pilgrimage, and Pacce couldn't have been more than ten years old despite being Isaaru's "Guardian."

"Obviously, I failed," he finished.

"I wouldn't call your decision a failure," Braska corrected him, and Rikku found her head bobbing in agreement. Auron still avoided her gaze though, and her heart clenched.

That stupid man, she thought, though it was devoid of any true anger. Only Auron could master the art of self-flagellation for choosing to be something other than a Yevonite dirtbag.

Auron spread his hands, his features descending into a hardening scowl as he glared at the small encampment spread before them. "Even afterwards, I was still offered a chance. They needed someone to rein in the crusaders. The idealists. A firm hand to guide them away from those beliefs conflicting with Mika's grand vision. All it would take to prove my loyalty was one arranged marriage."

"The priest's daughter!" Rikku blurted out, remembering their first conversation in the dungeons of Bevelle. "Braska said you had to marry a priest's daughter." Auron stiffened even further at her exclamation. Her nose scrunched as she thought about it. "But how would that prove anything?"

Braska smiled humorlessly. "Why, Rikku, it would have proven both his loyalty to the will of the Maesters and his trustworthiness to the idealism of the crusaders. Auron would have made them a perfect leader, uniting diversity within the folds of Yevon. No one would have questioned his rule as a fair and unbiased source. A new Lord Mi'ihen for the faithful."

So that was their plan, Rikku mused to herself. It still worked, in the end; "Legendary Guardian Auron" was just as big of a lure for the ranks of the Yevonites as "Neo Lord Mi'ihen" might have been. She imagined she could hear the sound of Auron's teeth grinding together as his jaw worked.

"I left everything to Kinoc. The crusaders, the monks. He'll have control of them all one day, the poor bastards. Sometime I wonder if it was worth it," he spat out.

"Hold up now, I still don't get it," Jecht said. "Why couldn't you just suck it up and marry that girl, if you still care so much about them monks and crusader kids? I mean I get it, you're buddies with Braska, and you've got Blondie now, but you still gave up all that fame and fortune – " here, he gestured at the troops, " – for this? What was wrong with her?"

And then all the pieces clicked into horrible place as Braska gave Auron another pat on his shoulder. "Nothing. Nothing at all. She is perfect in every way. Still, I have to admit that I am thankful for Auron's decision. I only wish for Yuna to be able to choose her own path in this world someday."

The shocked silence lasted for a few moments before Jecht exploded. "She's only seven!" he roared, drawing the gaze of several soldiers. "How could they even – !"

Auron stood up and grabbed his sword, swinging it onto his back with a violent jerk and silencing Jecht's outburst. "She's half Al Bhed and the daughter of a priest. In the eyes of Yevon, she is a merely point to be made in an argument that has spanned generations." He paused and glared at Rikku. "And yes, the irony of it now does not escape me."

"Auron…" Rikku bit her lip, unable to offer anything more.

"Enough," he ground out. "We're here for the Fayth, not my life story." With that, he turned and marched up the steps, silent and angry once more.

edited 8/16