Reader Djpunupipi created some beautiful fanart for this fanfic! You can view it on AO3, under the fiction titled "Memento Vivere Artwork" in the "Memento Vivere" series. Also, another huge thanks to Ciesste, my lovely beta who helped pull this and many other chapters together.

40: The Fayth's Trial

"I will go with you."

Rikku paused, her goggles halfway up her face. "Huh? Why now?" It was more curiosity than any desire to stop Braska that made her ask. He'd be able to manage the short distance to the Chamber of the Fayth even with his mediocre underwater abilities.

"This may be our last chance to find anything," he said. "I'd rather face whatever lies beyond together."

"Don't say it like that. Even if there's nothing there, you'd eventually be able to summon if you kept trying."

Braska activated the light sphere and gave her a level stare.

"Ok, or maybe we'll find something," she sighed in exasperation. "Stay close – and no casting unless you can breathe!" Turning, she waded into the water of the final, unexplored passage.

The swim was brief; rather than winding through the ocean's depths, the path ended at a small chamber above the water. It contained nothing more than breathable air, crumbled stone, and two ugly statues guarding a plain double door.

Braska shut down the light sphere and handed it to her. Water dripped from his sodden clothing as he stared at the door. "Rikku… why are those torches lit?"

This is totally not possible. Unpossible. "Spontaneous combustion?" she tried. She did the math and came to a conclusion that made her want to swim right back out of the passage, summoner's staves be damned.

Seymour's probably around my age right now. He's a summoner. And he's already been here.

"Well! This place is kinda creepy, and I bet we're not gonna find anything anyway, so let's just go back right now and – "

Braska was already struggling to push the door open. "What are you hesitating for? This is magnificent! Somehow, magic has remained, despite the temple's destruction! It may be the key to our escape." He pushed again, grunting, and the door creaked open.

He strode through and she followed, unwilling. Immediately, they stopped, taking in the well-kept room lit by flickering torchlight. Unlike the rest of the ruined temple, the space looked recently refurbished. Six statues lined the edges of a wide red carpet. The pulse of a magic rune sealed an unmistakable doorway against the back wall.

"There's a Fayth here," Braska breathed in awe. "I can feel it."

Rikku couldn't feel anything other than the heavy, oppressive presence of despair. Still, she didn't need to see the expression on his face to know he was right. The malevolent pink light of the destruction spheres she and Auron had so carefully hidden from Braska decorated the room in glowing lines along the floor and walls.

As she watched, three of the guardian sculptures bloomed into life with that same sickly light; glowing symbols of Bahamut, Shiva, and Ixion decorated them respectively. The others lay dormant, aeons yet undiscovered by Braska.

"I don't think we should be here," she whispered, tugging his arm.

He ignored her, studying the lit statues, then the darkened ones. "Kilika, Besaid, and Zanarkand," he concluded, excited. "They must be the final keys to unlocking this puzzle."

"You're right!" Hope kindled. "Guess we're stuck without visiting the rest of the temples first, huh? Let's go back!"

Braska walked further into the room. She groaned in frustration, running after him and toward the gigantic, floating rune which blocked their path to the Chamber of the Fayth.

"Dead end," she supplied.

His expression hardened as he stared up at the rune. "I won't be denied. Not now. Not after all of this." He raised his hand and began to chant; power gathered around him. He directed the Dispel into the center of the rune. Rikku screamed and covered her eyes as the chamber shook; the magic wavered – but held.

She peeked out from under her hands. "I don't think it wor – "

"We're close." Braska cast again and again, growing angrier with each attempt. "I won't be refused!"

Under the onslaught, the rune was visibly weakening, struggling to reform itself even as each spell came through stronger and faster than the last. Finally, with the sound of glass shattering, the rune broke into multiple swirls of light and the three activated sculptures also faded into darkness.

Panting with exhaustion, Braska lowered his arms.

Seymour's totally gonna kill us for breaking his spell. She imagined him bursting through the doors behind them, a vision of spiked blue hair and murderous insanity. On the plus side, he'd bring a summoning staff with him, right? Cringing, she waited for the Trial's retaliation to Braska's attempt at cheating; however, nothing but a slow drip of water marked the destruction of the barrier. Rikku turned away from her daymare to address Braska, only to see his back disappearing into the Chamber.

She yelped. "Hey! Wait up!" Diving after him, she narrowly avoided the stone petals of the closing door. Then she spun to look at the now-sealed entrance behind her.

I'm actually inside the Chamber of the Fayth! Nothing stopped me this time!

She wiggled her fingers. No seizures, pressure, or voices in her head. "Yes!" she cheered, climbing to her feet. Then she came to a sudden stop, arms windmilling at the sight of the Fayth stone.

The Hymn filled the air – a woman's alto, deep and soulful – but it didn't comfort, as the other Hymns did. The song was lonely, full of sorrow and loss.

Braska kneeled before the circular stone embedded into the ground. A ring of magical light surrounded it, casting disturbing shadows across his face as if to match the twisted figure in the stone below.

Tiptoeing forward, Rikku looked at the remnants of the Fayth's human body. The back of a woman's torso was trapped, her arms crossed over her head as she was consumed by the petals of a carnivorous flower. Anchored chains bound the hybrid creature and splayed it open at the same time.

Totally creepy, Rikku thought, a shudder running through her. She hugged herself, trying to become small and unnoticeable.

The Hymn faded. A figure materialized, floating over the stone: Seymour's mother, the spitting image of the memory they'd seen in Zanarkand during Yuna's Pilgrimage. She was beautiful, with long silken hair and ebony eyes. She sported the same strong jaw and air of cold amusement as her son.

"Summoner. Your prayers are not welcome here," she said, her voice low and authoritative.

Braska rose. "You are the Fayth," he said in awe. "I am honored that you have chosen to appear for me."

"This is no honor. I have not chosen you," she said. "You are intruders. Leave."

He fell silent. Although he had only collected three aeons thus far, Rikku figured it wasn't the normal process to be rejected by a projection of a Fayth after praying to it.

"Will you not grant me your aid, my Lady?" he asked, still carefully respectful. "Spira has need of your strength."

"You are not worthy," the Fayth repeated, her eyes merciless. "Leave."

The words were laced with a thrumming command, and Rikku's joints locked. Her feet turned her around against her will. Not again! Why is this happening now? She fought the sensation, struggling for control.

And for the first time, her resistance seemed to be having an effect.

Strength blossomed, washing through her limbs and loosening them. She twisted to face Braska's back and dropped to one knee, clutching the ground. A bead of sweat rolled down her nose, and she watched it drop and splash onto the stone floor.

"How are you to be the judge of that?" Braska asked the Fayth, seemingly unaware of Rikku's struggle. His polite tone had vanished however, replaced with a hint of distress. "I will fight Sin and destroy it, even should it cost me everything."

Frustration filled Rikku, both from her own loss of control and Braska's determination to self-destruct. She forced her mouth open and croaked, "Why? Why does it always have to cost everything?"

Braska glanced at her as if he'd suddenly noticed she was there.

Ignoring him, she focused on Seymour's mother. Rikku knew, now. Knew it was the Fayth trying to control her body like a puppet. She clawed the stone and glared defiantly at the ghostly image.

The woman dipped her head and the pressure fled from Rikku's body. She caught herself before she could land face-first on the floor, gasping for breath.

"There can be no end to the spiral of death without sacrifice," Seymour's mother said. "It is the way of things."

"You can see her?" Braska asked, his surprise plain. "But you aren't a summoner…"

She stared back helplessly and shrugged. I don't know either, she wanted to tell him.

But the Fayth was speaking to them again. "I will not hear your prayer, summoner. I was not created for you."

Braska's head snapped back around, anger clouding his features. "I will defeat Sin!"

"You will not bring change to Spira."

"Hey!" Rikku threw her arm out. "You don't know anything! Made for your special little summoner, were you? He can't defeat Sin. You're the one who made sure of that – you and Jyscal!"

Seymour's mother gave her a knowing smile. "My son will save Spira, with the aid of my power. It is our destiny."

Rikku screamed, a raw cry of frustration and betrayal. Somewhere in her mind, she'd believed the Fayth were an existence separate and above the machinations of the Church of Yevon. That the power they held granted them some form of wisdom beyond a mere mortal's ken. Yuna's Pilgrimage had done much to bolster that opinion.

Maybe it was because this Fayth was young, still close to the memory of her humanity – but it didn't change the truth Rikku was witnessing: even a Fayth could have the same pride, and therefore the same failings, as anyone else in Spira – living or dead.

"Rikku!" Braska reached for her, but she knocked his hand away, full of fury. He still wanted to defer to the creature before them; he didn't see what she did. We really are the only ones who can save ourselves.

"Braska's the one who'll bring change to Spira!" She shook, unable to contain her rage. It was more than just the slight to Braska, more than learning that the Fayth were not infallible. It was something she and Brother had tried to ignore in the painful years following the destruction Seymour had wrought in Bikanel.

Let it go. Home is gone forever and we don't need it anymore – those were the arguments she'd used against her own father, more frequently than she cared to admit. Despite that, she understood why Cid was so driven to rebuild his past.

Nothing could make her forget what Seymour had stolen from them either. After her mom's death, Keyakku had become the center of her family. But then Home was destroyed, and Keyakku along with it,and nothing in Spira could stop the fallout between Brother and Cid. With Keyakku's death, the last illusion of her own broken family fell apart, a machina missing an essential screw.

"Your son can't protect Spira!" Rikku spat. "He only knows what he learned from you – how to destroy the things most precious to the rest of us!"

The woman recoiled, then lowered her head. "...I see you truly believe in your summoner," the Fayth said after a moment.

Rikku nodded jerkily, not trusting her voice. At least something in her words must have struck home.

"Do you have the power to defeat Sin and save Spira from itself?" the woman asked, looking at Braska.

Despite his obvious surprise and confusion, Braska was still able to re-focus on his own singular goal. "I do, and I will."

"We shall see." The woman's form faded. "Prove yourself worthy, and I will grant you my power." Although she disappeared, the Hymn didn't resume.

Rikku glanced around the small room. Pretty please don't be what I think that was. "Uh, you didn't happen to get a new aeon just now did you?"

Braska looked confused. "No… that is not at all what I expected." He frowned at her. "You knew of this Fayth? Who is her son?"

The floor began to shake before she could answer him. And for once, she really would have preferred to answer him. "We are in so many deep pickles they could make a salad out of us," she said, checking her weapon.

Braska hurried towards the exit, which had opened for them. "Is the temple collapsing? We need to leave before we're trapped in here!"

Rikku sprinted ahead, racing through the statue-lined room and out to the sunken passage. The temple rumbled, and she just knew. She stopped Braska before he could dive into the water. "No matter what happens, you have to get out," she told him, digging her fingers into his arm.

"We leave together," Braska told her urgently. "There's no time for this, the walls are going to collapse!" He tried to draw her down into the water with him.

She shook her head and yanked him back up. "You get out," she repeated, grabbing his face. "Don't try to be a hero. You're too important." Then she hugged him, and from the way he jerked, she could tell Braska was finally beginning to worry about something other than the quake.

"What awaits us outside?" he asked, returning her embrace.

"Pain," Rikku quipped. I'm not gonna go down with a frown. I'm not gonna go down at all! She repeated the mantra a few times, and forced a bright smile. "Think of this as the Trial of Baaj. Let's do it! And I mean the fighting, not the other stuff!"

For once, Braska didn't laugh. "I won't let you die."

She pulled out of his grasp and dove into the water, not bothering with her goggles. There was no part of her eager to face a battle with the aeon of nightmares, but she wanted to begin the fight before her courage deserted her.

Braska followed behind her; they surfaced in the enormous chamber that was becoming much too familiar, but the room was no longer the dark cavern it had been when they'd left. Rikku could actually see the apex of the tall ceiling as mist swirled around it. Red light churned in the center of the magical storm like an ever-watchful eye.

Braska gasped, his eyes wide. "What is this incredible power – "

The mist exploded.

They were thrown to the ground as an enormous hook burst from the ceiling and slammed into the floor, cracking it in several places. The chain stopped moving and pulled taut; spouts of red lava and black smoke boiled up at the point of contact. Beneath the surface, a massive shadow took shape, revealing the first spiked petal of the aeon's crown as the chain pulled it out.

Anima's bloodshot eye rolled in its head, centering on them as it rose to its full height.

"Can't we sit this one out?" Rikku raised the Godhand out of habit, then let out a short, panicked laugh. As if her knuckle could block Anima's blasts of raw energy. "Try not to get hit," she told Braska.

"Is that even an aeon?" he said, looking shell-shocked. He shuddered.

Rikku slapped him in the face. "Put on one of your dresspheres right now! Do it!"

Nodding, he reached for the garment grid and activated a sphere. Light swirled around him, and when it faded, she blinked and forgot about the towering harbinger of death looming over them for a split second.

Some things still had more shock value than even Anima.

At least Braska was wearing a tuxedo rather than a skimpy dress. On the other hand, it was the most gaudy tuxedo she had ever seen – bright reds, deep purples and glittering sequin accents everywhere. His playing cards danced in figure eights around his body.

"Huh. I'm feeling pretty lucky," he said with a delighted smile. Then he looked up at Anima and winced. "That one isn't very good looking, is she? Shiva has a leg up on her. Or two, actually."

Anima roared and squinted at them.

Rikku grabbed Braska and hurled them across the floor. Said floor exploded into splinters behind them as the blast hit, demolishing the area where they'd been standing.

"I can't believe you just called an aeon bigger than every building in Luca ugly!" Rikku fought the urge to smack the back of his head. "Do you want to die?"

"Of course I do, I'm a summoner," Braska answered easily, rolling to his feet with more grace than he would have managed without the costume. He dusted off his jacket and adjusted the bowtie at his neck. "How do I look?"

Rikku slapped her forehead. "You look like you need to stop posing and dodge!" They both did just that as another blast shook the room, stones flying. She peered out from behind the statue she'd used for shelter and glared at Braska. "Why'd you choose Jecht?" she shouted. "Do something useful besides making it mad!"

"As you command, my Lady," Braska replied, throwing his playing cards into the air. "I think we could use some Felicity right now." The familiar rose petals rained over both of them, but something was different – the simple spell had gone into overdrive in much the same way he boosted the grid's black magic.

Braska collected the cards into his waiting hand with a snap and sent a taunting grin her way.

Of course he would be able to manipulate her garment grid more competently than she could – he had magic power to spare and he was a trained summoner.

She wasted no time, taking advantage of the Haste lifting her heels. Anima glared, and Rikku leapt out of the way. The blast barely grazed her, exploding a pillar to her side instead.

She weaved through Anima's rattling chains and drove the Godhand forward, willing it to hit as hard as she could. It connected with a crack, creating a force wave so powerful Rikku was pushed backwards. The aeon shuddered, turning its eye towards her.

"Wha-oh…" Rikku said, trying to back away.

A flock of cards swarmed around Anima's head. Glancing over, she saw Braska's hands slashing up and down; the cards followed his movements, swatting and biting the aeon like a swarm of flies.

Enraged, Anima spewed forth a volley of blasts which smashed haphazardly against the walls.

Rikku retreated, rejoining Braska and looking for another opening. She was thankful for the Godhand's enhanced power, but still felt like an ant chipping away at the toenail of a Behemoth. "We need to use magic!"

"I'm a little busy here," he complained, hands still moving in complex patterns. He let out a cluck of annoyance and recalled the cards, quite a few of which were now singed along the edges.

Only after she'd pulled him behind one of the larger piles of rubble did she let her breath out in a rush. "That's a great trick for keeping it off of us, but it won't take that thing down! We need to bust the shell surrounding its body."

They both ducked as the rubble shuddered, hit by another attack.

"What do you have in mind?"

She thought about his dressphere. "Try your Magic Reels. Since you're stronger than me, they might do some actual damage."

"Magic Reels?" He closed his eyes. "Ah, I think I understand." Spreading his hands, the cards split into three bunches and hovered between them, before spinning and gaining the appearance of a slot machine's reels.

"Aim high. Try to cast Black Sky," she instructed as he focused on the cards. The reels slowed to a stop, displaying a match before the illusion collapsed. Rikku dropped her head and groaned in dismay.

"Whoops," Braska said as the image of three summoner's staffs faded away. "I think my mind was elsewhere." Then he looked up in surprise as a spell bloomed to life overhead and showered him with glowing feathers. "What's this?"

"Nothing bad," she replied, still disappointed in the failure. "Well… just cast something big at it while I try hitting it again! On three… two..." She rolled out from her cover; behind her Braska started chanting.

Anima shuddered as a massive Firaga spell blasted its face, temporarily blinding it.

Rikku leapt over a pile of fallen stones and ran forward. The hairs on the back of her neck rose; electricity crackled through the air as Braska released a Thundaga spell. Reaching her goal, she ducked under a chain and spun, striking the aeon hard. Again, a shockwave blew her back; again, Braska strove to cover her retreat, this time using a Waterga.

Bits of stone cut into her skin as she narrowly escaped another blast.

The air pressure plummeted – Braska aimed a Blizzaga at Anima's head – and Rikku flung herself into a roll. Her breath fogged as the spell encased the aeon's eye in a thick layer of ice.

They had a moment to regroup, but already the ice was glowing eerily, as Anima prepared to free itself.

"Ugh, you're bleeding all over the place!" Braska's nose wrinkled as he stared down at Rikku. Despite his words, he still managed to look concerned, cards fluttering around his shoulders in agitation.

She waved him away. "Relax, I'll live."

Braska deactivated the dressphere, his jovial manner disappearing alongside the outfit. "I'm sorry," he said in frustration, casting a healing spell for her superficial wounds. "I can't believe I said that – I wasn't myself."

Rikku ignored him and ducked as the ice casing around Anima's head exploded. The aeon shook itself, as if disoriented.

"I'm going again!" she yelled. Braska's desperate shout to wait was swallowed by Anima's furious bellow.

Faster, she told her legs and tensed her arm. Go faster! She spun for another hit and heard Braska cast behind her.

"Nonpareil!"

Power flooded her as her punch connected. The Godhand was alive with energy, bolstered by the strength-enhancing spell. Her weapon tore through Anima's tough outer shell, directly into the creature's exposed inner torso – and her arm was mired in the aeon, holding her down.

"Eww, not again," Rikku gagged, wrenching free. The torn flesh around the wound shuddered; she hit the aeon once more while it was weakened rather than attempt a retreat.

Anima screamed, its skin rippling to cover the wound. Her next punch landed on the shell instead of the aeon's torso, though it still scored deeply. The gigantic petal she had hit was sagging, exposing the aeon's more fragile body high above her.

Turning, she signaled Braska, who was now wearing a long scarlet cloak and wielding a familiar-looking massive sword. He was covered from head to toe in pitch-black armor, but for the blood-red cloak and the frightening gold mask shielding his face.

Recovering from her shock at his appearance, she pointed at Anima's weak spot. "Hit it there!" she yelled.

He wasn't listening to her; instead, he charged forward, shouting. Rikku couldn't hear him – or anything else; the sounds of the battle disappeared.

The floor turned black and seethed beneath her. She only managed to catch one last glimpse of Braska before the roiling miasma closed over her head.

Suspended in midair, she turned herself around, feeling like she was falling through the Farplane. But, whereas the Farplane had been bathed in white light, everything was cloaked in poisonous darkness.

A tremor of movement caught her eye; the petals forming the lower half of the aeon's body emerged from the miasma and unfurled. An enormous, skeletal head, packed with pointed teeth and twisted horns, gave her a ghastly grin of welcome.

"This is so totally not good," Rikku breathed.

Anima's darker half laughed, as if mocking her for being so weak. This aeon, this Fayth, contained the ultimate power, yet refused to lift a finger to curb Spira's suffering. It passively watched the world struggle for survival, yet presumed to pass judgement when it failed.

Rikku's paralyzing fear fled, replaced with the blinding anger she'd felt in the Chamber.

"It's all your fault!" she stuttered, so angry that the words tangled as they hit the air.

The creature raised its bound hands and broke free of its chains.

"You killed Keyakku!" She raised her weapon; the Godhand glowed neon in the darkness. "You're not better than us!"

Even as she punched, Anima continued to laugh. Rikku's weapon exploded with light, striking the aeon's knuckle that rushed to meet her.

The laugh echoed, as if to mock her defiance and confirm Braska's doubts. Only power matters in the end. And you don't have it.

Anima's bony fist slammed her arm away as though it were a blade of grass – her wrist shattered – and struck her body. Bones splintered; muscles quivered and tore apart; flesh melted from the intense heat. The hot tang of blood filled her mouth, and then everything went black.

.x.x.x.

Auron knelt in a field of flowers, touching something hidden between the stems. He looked up in surprise, before his brow furrowed. "Not yet."

"What?" Rikku asked, but he was already gone.

.x.x.x.

She heard his voice first, but she couldn't see him; her eyes weren't working.

" – back, don't leave! Not yet, not like this, I won't allow – "

Braska sounded so worried. She wished she could open her eyes and look at him, but she wasn't even sure they were still there. Where'd my eyeballs go? That's a funny thing to lose –

Pain. Pure, white-hot agony consumed her.

Some detached part of her understood the sensation of being rebuilt even as she bled out; bones snapping into place, charred flesh regrowing and knitting together before it could flake apart completely. Braska's voice floated in and out between her wordless convulsions; when she could scream again, she begged him to stop between shrieks.

He continued forcing the curative magic into her, refusing her the mercy of unconsciousness as he healed her faster than her body could die.

Rikku's eyes returned before her eyelids, and she immediately wished they hadn't.

Behind Braska's crouching, sobbing form, Anima was still thrashing. It focused on him.

"Bra-a-ah!" she tried to warn him through her raw throat.

The blast of energy struck, and he slumped over her with a gasp of pain.

"B-br-bra …" she moaned. Terrified, her eyes travelled to his ruined back, where Anima's attack had torn apart both his shirt and the skin underneath it. Blood flowed freely from the wound, and his body lay motionless, trapping her.

Panic flooded Rikku as she struggled to free herself. No! No! He's not supposed to die yet!

Braska shifted and a swirl of light surrounded him, transforming into familiar glowing feathers that fluttered to the ground. He struggled to sit up, pale-faced.

"I won't die here!" he swore. She twitched as he stood and staggered away; his back was still a mess, but it was no longer bleeding. He approached the swaying aeon, seething. "You are nothing but a coward, hiding behind your power." His voice was steady and sure despite the waxiness of his face.

Anima stilled, its eye trained on his figure.

"You were to test my worthiness alone, but instead you drew the both of us into this senseless battle." He raised his arms and cast, layering protective barriers and regenerative magic over himself.

"I offer you your test, then!" he ground out as the aeon struck him. A burn blistered over his outstretched arm, but he managed to reform the Protect spell just as quickly as he had brought Rikku back from death.

"No more tricks, merely a contest of wills! The summoner and the summoned!"

Rikku tried to sit up, fear freezing her heart as Braska endured another hit, but her limbs gave out.

Swaying, Anima rolled its head from one side to the other. It twisted its neck abruptly, directing a powerful burst of energy towards Braska. The blow brought him to one knee, but he was alive.

"You are forgetting your place, Fayth," he said, rising to his feet, the wound on his arm closing. "You were a tool created for the greater good, not your own selfish whims. I won't forgive you for hurting the innocent." He murmured and raised one hand. Magic rose in visible waves around his body.

Rikku could almost feel it; he was no longer drawing power from her garment grid. Instead, he was casting a spell of a magnitude she'd only seen once before.

A spiral of light encircled Anima, stilling into tiny balls of glowing energy before twisting towards the ceiling in a ring and beginning to rain holy lances into the aeon.

Braska's chanting stopped, but his hand remained outstretched, magic continuing to pulse around him.

Trancing, Lulu had once called it. The ability to cast wordlessly, from the depths of one's soul. She'd dismissed the possibility of Rikku being able to learn it; it was a power you had to be born with. Even Yuna couldn't do it.

Braska, it seemed, could. The ring descended around Anima once more, spears of light piercing the struggling aeon. The spell continued unabated – bright stars raining from the ceiling in a dizzying flash of power that struck again and again. The low hum generated by his spell grew to a feverish pitch, echoing in Rikku's ears.

A low groan sounded; Anima's huge body listed to the side, its last remaining defensive petal wilting even as Braska continued to strike it. The aeon shuddered, glowed, and collapsed into a thick mist of pyreflies.

Braska lowered his arm and watched it dissolve, panting.

In Anima's place, floating above the debris, the Fayth appeared before them.

"You have been tested, and found worthy," she said. "I will lend you my power." Her fierce expression softened. "Your will is strong. You are indeed a mighty summoner. Perhaps you will be able to spare my son from his pain."

She faded and Braska fell to his knees, gasping and tearing at his chest. Rikku watched in awe as he struggled to absorb Anima's essence; a nova of light surrounded him, disappearing into his body. When it was over, his ragged breath echoed through the chamber.

She listened to the rush of water pouring into the damaged room. He did it.

"Rikku," he called. A tongue of flame sprung to life in his hand and he stumbled towards her. "Can you walk?"

She licked her lips and cleared her throat once to test it. "I'm not sure," she rasped. "But I know I can't swim."

Nodding, he slung one of her nerveless arms over his shoulder. Together, they struggled to their feet and limped towards the exit. Despite the excruciatingly slow pace, the crumbling temple held around them.

After what seemed like an endless journey, they emerged into the cool night air. Rikku didn't protest when Braska dropped her and all but collapsed by her side under the open sky. She closed her eyes. I just need a moment, she thought. A tiny breather.

.x.x.x.

When Rikku's eyes cracked open, bright mid-morning sunlight assaulted her. Wincing, she covered her face and struggled to orient herself. She was lying flat on her back near the remains of their firepit in the temple's outer chamber; Braska must have moved her there after she collapsed.

I'm alive, she realized as her grogginess faded. I'm still alive.

Gingerly testing her limbs, Rikku bit back a groan of pain. Her body felt like one large bruise, and her hair was as stiff as her limbs. Turning to one side, she saw her belt, neatly rolled beside her head. Her eyes travelled beyond it to spot Braska, standing by the edge of the ocean.

His shirt was in tatters, held around his shoulders by a few threads and a prayer. The braid hanging down the center of his back did little to hide the fresh pink scar that radiated outwards like a starburst over his skin. His bearing looked different; something in him had changed over the course of the night.

As if sensing her eyes on him, he turned and smiled, and the difference clicked – the tension weighing him down since their arrival was missing.

"You're finally awake. I don't suppose you're feeling up to catching us some breakfast?"

Rikku rolled onto her face and pushed her legs up under her, resting there for a moment. She heard Braska laughing at her awkward pose.

"Do you need some help?"

"Not from you!" She sat up with a speed she didn't realize she had regained; flashing the sky in a miniskirt was probably a bad idea while he was watching. Then she winced and rolled her shoulders. "Ugh, I ache all over."

"The best thing for sore muscles is more of what made them sore," Braska told her.

She huffed. "I bet Auron taught you that."

He shrugged. "Does it matter? You need to clean yourself off and I need to eat. I believe it would be best to apply his wisdom in this case."

Rikku reached for her belt and snapped it on, then straightened and checked her weapon. "You're so sensitive to a girl's needs." Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "I can see where Auron learned how to date."

"The morning grows no younger," Braska answered her with a note of cheer.

She scowled and stomped by him, intent on ignoring the twinkle in his eye.

He caught her arm and spun her into an embrace. And then, to her mortification, he dug his cheek into her crusty hair.

"Are you sure you wanna do that?" she asked. "I think I'm wearing parts of my own body as decor right now."

Braska laughed. "Believe me, I've seen you looking worse."

"I know." She turned her forehead into his chin. "Thanks for saving me."

"I keep my promises," he replied. Then he drew back and tilted her face up with the tip of his finger. "Rikku, please…" His voice quieted as his head lowered.

Rikku's breath hitched and her eyes fluttered closed.

"... be careful," he finished, shoving her.

Her scream cut off as she hit the water, and she resurfaced flailing and spluttering. "First Auron and now you! Just because I can swim doesn't mean I like being dunked!" She slapped the water with her hand, spraying him as he laughed. "I can't believe you got me! Again! Ugh!" She turned and swam away, trying to bury her giggle.

A short while later, she was feeling more like herself while they shared a meal over the remains of the campfire. "So," she said cautiously, "did you get it? You know… the thing." A small part of her railed against calling the aeon they'd uncovered a Fayth.

"Yes, and more than that," Braska answered her. He met her eyes. "I understand now. It was never the staff I was missing, but my own belief."

She frowned, disappointed. "It all comes back to Yevon for you, even after this?"

He smiled as though she'd told him a hidden joke, then shook his head. "Belief in myself. Thank you for being my strength when I had none of my own." He reached out a hand and beckoned her, and after a brief hesitation, she sidled up against him.

His arm descended over her shoulders and he gave her a light squeeze. "May I kiss you now?" He said it like he was asking for her opinion about the weather.

"... I guess?" Rikku answered. It probably wasn't a good idea, but then again, neither was nearly dying in front of him. I should let him have at least that much. "As long as it's just one kiss."

Braska chuckled. "I promised you once that I would not stand in the path of your true feelings. I do keep my promises." Then he leaned over and pressed his mouth against hers.

There was some knowledge in his touch that hadn't been there before; a certainty still laced with an undercurrent of tingling passion. He took full advantage of her hesitant acceptance, not only settling for the press of her lips, but also winding his hand through her hair, tilting her head to deepen it into something raw and messy. When he drew away, Rikku had to swipe her mouth dry.

Braska traced the edge of her face, his eyes tracking her with unnerving intensity. "I must borrow your knife," he said after a moment.

"Huh?" She blinked, but he was already helping himself to the pouch at her hip, his fingers playful and teasing through the fabric as he sought out her tooling knife. When he finally grasped it, he flicked her nose and stood up. She watched, bemused, as he walked to the ocean's edge and opened the knife.

Then she she saw what he was doing. "No, don't – !"

He regarded the long braid hanging loose in his hand. "I suppose I have the shortest hair of all of us now."

Rikku lowered her arm. "Why'd you do that?" she asked, walking to his side.

Braska shrugged, dropping the link of hair over the water and letting it sink out of view. "Because it is an end to things. And a new beginning." He closed the knife and handed it back. Then he turned and wrapped Rikku in a close embrace.

"You allowed me to dream for a little while," he murmured. Patterns lighted around them as he spoke; his eyes closed and the sky parted overhead. Rikku returned the hug even as he fell into Rapture. Bahamut landed as softly as a giant dragon could, forgoing his usual fanfare. The aeon scooped them carefully into his palms, the gentleness of the motion an odd contrast to his fierce power.

"No, thank you," she whispered against Braska's ear. "For showing me who you really are. Maybe one day, I'll be brave enough to do the same." She looked over his shoulder into Bahamut's knowing gaze and nodded.

The dragon tensed, before leaping into the air. With a few powerful strokes of his mighty wings, the island of Baaj became nothing more than a distant memory.

Gentleman Luck: Felicity+*: raise Luck and Evasion, Haste on entire party

Gentleman Luck: Magic Reels - Black Sky: 10x non elemental hits, dmg affected by magic stat

Gentleman Luck: Magic Reels - 3x Staff == Auto-Life

Samurai: Nonpareil: Raise Strength and Accuracy

Spells [Braska]: Full-Life, Protect, Shield, Regen, Holy

*The plus version of Felicity don't really exist in FFX-2, and Nonpareil is supposed to be caster specific. Braska's overdrive is based on Lulu's – the higher the magic stat, the more spellpower / chances for repetition in casting. "Trancing" is the term for overdrives / limit breaks used in FF9, as a sidenote.