52: Spirits and Memories
"You sure it's here?" Jecht asked.
"Uh-huh." Rikku squinted through the dense tree branches to the forest floor below. "The shrine's suspended on the crystal path between the trees somewhere around here. You can't just find it, though. It has to open up for you!"
"Then why're we wandering around without a game plan?" he complained. "Feels like we've been goin' in circles for hours now!"
"We're not moving in circles," Auron interrupted, also studying the ground. "We have travelled deeper into this forest than I've ever been, though."
"Yep," she said, still scanning their surroundings. "And, I do have a plan for your information! We're chasing butterflies."
"...Chasing butterflies," Auron repeated. "That was your plan?"
Jecht groaned.
"Why are we chasing butterflies?" Braska asked, scrambling over a jagged crystal knob protruding out of their aerial pathway. "Do they hold some special significance for the Celestial Weapons?"
"Nope," she said, spotting a cluster of bobbing blue butterflies and scrambling off the branch. "But we need their help to find the path."
"How are butterflies supposed to help us?" Auron asked, following.
"They're not really butterflies," she answered, coming to a stop before the cluster of fluttering insects. "They're the spirits of Macalania Forest."
Braska froze, crunching footsteps suddenly ceasing. "What?"
Rikku didn't answer, watching the butterflies circle overhead. Why won't they come to us? "Spirits. You know, the beastfolk. Like Yevon's travelling musicians or that doorman at the Glitzball."
"They're spirits?" Braska asked.
She turned; surprise was painted in stark relief on Braska's, Auron's, and Jecht's faces.
Huh. Didn't they know that? Whoops...
"You mean they ain't like us?" Jecht scratched his head. "I thought they were just weird funny-lookin' half-animal things," he admitted. "Are them Hypellos spirits too?"
"No, Hypellos are a regular old race just like the rest of us," she said. "But the beast-people don't have real bodies, I guess? That's why they can turn into butterflies whenever they want to, but most of them left the forest to live as people with the rest of us."
Auron turned a wary gaze on the hovering group of butterflies that was stubbornly refusing to form into a solid creature.
Nodding at them, she continued. "The ones that haven't taken on physical forms stay in Macalania and only show up when they feel like it." Which they clearly don't right now. "I think they're still watching us and trying to decide if they want to help."
After a moment, Auron grunted and slung his pack to the side. "Then there's no point in wandering further. Let's settle down here. If they're truly forest spirits, they'll appear when they're ready."
It was as good a place as any, she reluctantly agreed. There really wasn't any point plowing further into the forest; night was already descending, and the clearing Auron had chosen was secluded and cozy. Towering crystalline trees surrounded them on all sides, and a shallow pond rippled along the edge of the copse. The sweet, ringing notes it produced were a testament to the purity of its water.
Sighing, she followed Auron and began to set up their makeshift camp. Jecht did the same, grumbling. Braska approached him and the two men began to converse on the other side of the clearing.
Her hands stilled as she watched them. A heavy feeling of guilt gnawed at her. We may have told Jecht the truth about Braska's fate, but I still haven't said anything about his own. Doesn't he deserve to know, too?
"Something on your mind?" Auron asked, kneeling beside her and following her gaze. "What is it? Did he do something again?"
"Oh no," she said quickly. "Braska didn't do anything. It's Jecht this time."
Auron frowned.
"Well, not really, I mean, it's sorta about me, I guess." Tearing her eyes away, she looked up at Auron. "It's just… I know something about Jecht. Something big. And I don't like keeping secrets from you guys."
"Is this about the future?" At her hesitant nod, Auron settled more comfortably next to her. "Then don't bother worrying. It's better for all of us if you don't share your knowledge."
"How can you say that?" she blurted. "Don't you want to know? If I were him, I bet I'd want to know."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I—"
He raised an eyebrow.
She shut her mouth and mulled over his words. "Why didn't you tell us?" she'd asked his older self once, in Zanarkand. The shock of that revelation, the feeling of hurt and betrayal—that he'd kept something so important from them was unforgettable.
In the end, she suspected he'd answered her question mostly for Yuna's sake. "If I had told the truth," he'd said, "would that really have stopped you from coming?"
She broke a piece of crystal from the ground and twirled it between her fingertips. "What if… what if in the future he makes a bad call, and telling him the truth could give him the choice to do things differently? Shouldn't I let him know about it?"
"Rikku," Auron said after a long silence. "I admit I was thinking mostly of your safety when I asked you to keep your own counsel. But that isn't the only reason."
He looked at Jecht, who was now trying to juggle his Celestial Crest, Sigil, and the Cloudy Mirror. He missed a catch, and the mirror fell into the water by his feet. Jecht winced and dove for the fallen symbol as Braska shouted in dismay.
"Jecht shared his secret with us and revealed his greatest fear while doing so."
"That he doesn't know if he's real?"
"No," Auron corrected. "That he doesn't know if he has free will. That is what Jecht holds most dear—his independence."
"Mayyybe you're right," she countered, though she wasn't entirely convinced. Still, what Auron said wasn't wrong. "I guess it makes sense, though. It's the one way he can prove to himself that he's more human than aeon, right? Not being controlled by somebody else."
"Hnn," Auron grunted in agreement. "And, revealing your knowledge to Jecht is an act of control, in a way. You're taking away his—and all of our choices every time you do. The future is not something for you alone to decide. You cannot control fate."
"I never thought about it that way," she admitted, voice small. Her eyes flitted to Braska, who was now also on his knees, helping Jecht search the shallow pool. "Maybe because Braska doesn't feel that way about it. He asks me stuff about the future whenever he thinks it could help. Like with Remiem earlier."
"That is Lord Braska's prerogative." His observation was steeped in disapproval. "Braska believes his destiny is set. He believes you to hold the ultimate knowledge of it. But you do still have a choice: you could also withhold information from him." He cupped her hand. "I disagree with Braska on many things. And I, too, have made mistakes, more than a few of them with you. But I am not always wrong." He caught her eye. "And Braska is not always right."
They were interrupted by Jecht's whoop of triumph as he held up the missing mirror, dripping with crystalline water.
"It could have been destroyed!" Braska yelled, glaring at Jecht.
"But it ain't. Look, that water even cleaned the guck off! You can actually see somethin' in it now!" Jecht waved the mirror demonstratively. Light glanced off its clear surface, reflecting between the darkened trees.
Braska's mouth fell open.
Auron frowned. "What are they—"
She tugged his hand, staring upwards.
The butterflies coalesced, shifting into a ball of light. It dropped to the ground in the shape of a small mouse-like creature clutching a horn nearly as large as itself between its paws.
"Oh me, oh my, visitors galore! Whatever have you come here for?"
Rikku scrambled to her feet and hurried to bow. "Uh, hi!" she said, waving. "Glad you showed up! We're just here to visit the Celestial Shrine."
The mouse sized her up; its nose twitched. "Pukutak welcomes your merry little band. But, why come again, when you wield the Godhand?"
Rikku started. "You recognize me?"
"Why yes, of course, though it is quite bizarre," the little creature said. "It isn't so easy to travel that far."
Jecht and Braska joined them, standing a bit behind Auron.
Braska, in particular, watched the exchange with a look of wonder. "This creature is…" he breathed.
"Guys… this is Pukutak," Rikku said, trying to work past a knot of confusion. They remember me! How is that even possible? "I guess you could say we've met before?"
"Of course we have, how could we forget?" the mouse said cheerfully. It looked at Braska. "Although last time you travelled with a different brunette." It trilled softly. "But the bond is strong, a connection you share. Whether with this summoner, or with his heir."
"Yuna," Braska breathed, jerking to stare at Rikku. "You came here with Yuna."
She swallowed and tried to avoid his gaze. "Umm… we're not actually here for me," she deflected, wondering what else the talkative little mouse would reveal if it kept rhyming. She pointed at Jecht. "He's the chosen one this time."
The mouse faced Jecht, then clapped its paws in delight. "Oh me, oh my, now this is fun! He reminds me so very much of his son!"
Jecht's eyes narrowed. "Huh," he said. "You mean to tell me— "
Rikku shook her head wildly and slashed her hand over her throat, mouthing, Don't ask!
"—you know the way to this shrine?" he finished, looking unsettled.
"Ah, but I am not the only guide. Only together shall we decide!" Closing its eyes, the mouse lifted the horn to its lips, and began to play a light, lilting melody. The clear notes rang through the forest, morphing into a meandering tune that skipped through the scales.
"Is that how they communicate with each other?" Auron asked.
"Uh-huh," Rikku whispered, as more butterflies began to congregate in the clearing. Two more balls of light formed, dropping to the ground in familiar shapes.
"Well, well, what have we here?" A squat frog-like creature appeared, speaking in a thick brogue. It beat a short greeting on the drum attached to its belly. "Been a while, lassie."
"Donga?" A smile spread over her face. In her own time, she'd been unable to locate the musicians after Tobli's concert; it was a relief to find her friends were safe in this time and still knew her.
"Got it in one, that's a good girl," Donga said amicably, pounding the drum.
The other glowing creature slowly straightened, now in the form of a tall, robed bird carrying a harp. "Be greeted, travelers." It bowed gracefully. Tilting its head, it blinked one dark avian eye at Rikku, then turned to Jecht. "I am known as Bayra. What business do you have with us?"
Jecht awkwardly held out the tightly-gripped Celestial Symbols. "Ah, well, see, I found these things while I was travelin' through Spira and, well, ya know…" He trailed off uncomfortably under the bird's penetrating scrutiny. "…Ya do know, right?"
A moment passed as the three creatures silently conferred. Then, with a flash of light, Pukutak and Donga disappeared, scattering into swarms of butterflies.
Bayra strummed the harp. The notes faded before it addressed them. "You hold Celestial Symbols and have unlocked the key. We will assist you. Who shall be judged?"
"Uh…" Jecht said. "Pretty sure that's me."
Bayra nodded, then waited.
Hesitantly, Jecht sank to his knees before the avian creature.
With a nod, Bayra struck a few notes on the harp, letting the music surround them.
This feels familiar. She knew they were here for Jecht, but she couldn't help it—a wave of nostalgia washed over her. If she closed her eyes, she could almost feel Yuna standing next to her, clutching the sleeping Nirvana between her hands. It's like time just stops in this forest.
After a moment, Bayra lowered the instrument. "The Fang which rends the world asunder. You may pass."
"Whoa," Jecht said, looking up in surprise. "Little dramatic there, don't ya think? I mean, it's just a sword, right? It ain't like it's gonna turn me into some kinda world-destroyer, right?"
"We become what we choose to be," Bayra answered solemnly. "The Celestial Weapon can only reflect your truth."
The silence that followed was pregnant. Rikku turned her head and met Auron's eyes. Do you still think you're right?
As if he could hear her thoughts, he scowled at her and shook his head.
Bayra was still waiting, leveling an unreadable stare at Jecht. Even Rikku was beginning to feel some second-hand awkwardness from the creature's piercing look.
Jecht rose to his feet. "Right. Whatever you say, man. ...So I'll just go and pick up my sword then," he said before backing away.
"May we accompany him?" Braska asked the birdman, openly curious. "I have only heard legends of the Celestial Weapons. It would be an honor to see one born before my very eyes."
Bayra blinked. "We shall see. Step forward, Lord Summoner."
Braska approached and sank to one knee, bowing his head. Bayra lifted the harp and played; a note twanged and the beast's fingers halted.
"I am sorry," it said. "But the melody, while familiar, is not yet correct. You are not the chosen avatar. You may not pass."
Braska's shoulders drooped. "I see," he murmured. "Thank you for entertaining my request." His brow furrowed and he stepped away, gaze darting towards Rikku.
She met it with a sinking sense of dread. Braska might be stubborn, but he wasn't slow. Bayra's words had hidden a riddle of time, and she could sense him trying to unravel it. Yet, Bayra had said. Braska knows I came here with Yuna. Bayra hadn't been saying Braska wasn't yet ready; he'd spoken of the future, of Yuna.
The question was, if Braska could also figure that out on his own. She knew he'd eventually ask her, and tried to smile back but couldn't quite manage. Braska didn't know that Yuna was her summoner, at least. She thought on Auron's advice—maybe he was right. Maybe Braska shouldn't know, either.
Bayra was still waiting, harp poised. Rikku jumped when it addressed her. "Little one," it intoned, fingers strumming across the instrument. The chords seemed to wrap around her and a shiver ran down her spine; her fingers twitched. "The Hand which seeks to change destiny. You may pass."
"Uh… thanks?"
Bayra ignored her, facing Auron.
Auron shook his head. "There's no need—"
The bird played the harp again, letting the music settle. "The Sword which cleaves both heaven and earth," Bayra said. "You may pass."
"What?" Auron coughed out. "I own no Celestial Weapon."
"Yet," Braska interjected, a small smile on his face, and Rikku's stomach roiled. His response couldn't have been a coincidence.
He figured it out already?! She scrutinized Braska's face, but his mask was flawless; she couldn't glean a single honest thought from his expression.
"I am pleased for you, my friend."
"There must be some mistake," Auron replied, eyes darting about as if expecting the others to spring some sort of trap on him. "If I was chosen as a recipient for a Celestial Weapon, why did I find nothing of the sort until now? Both Jecht and Rikku obtained their weapons well before petitioning here."
"I do not believe these spirits make such mistakes," Braska replied. "Perhaps it means you are destined for greater things than this Pilgrimage. I hope you will grasp this opportunity which I do not have." He looked at Rikku again; something glinted in his eye. "I wonder if I ever had one to begin with."
Jecht rejoined them, lugging his sword along. He pulled up short. "So, y'all are tense as hell. Did I miss somethin'?"
"It is time." Bayra lifted the harp and plucked a delicate tune; as it played, the forest began to harmonize with the notes, and the air shimmered. A crystalline path formed, leading into the canopy—nothing more than glittering motes of light suspended in the sky.
"Whoa…" Jecht breathed. He put a tentative foot on the path, then used more weight when it didn't sink through. "I'm kinda gettin' how you guys felt in Bevelle that first time," he noted, heading up the nearly-translucent path.
"Go," Bayra commanded. "What you seek lies above. The mirror will show you the way."
"Sure, but, eh…" Jecht trailed off, studying the path that branched into multiple directions like a semi-invisible tree. "Wouldn't it be easier if Blondie just took point?"
"It doesn't work like that," Rikku said, stepping behind Jecht and shoving him. "You have to earn your way to the shrine. Just use the mirror like Bayra said."
Fishing out the Celestial Mirror, Jecht grumbled. "Got it." He held it up, pointing it at the path. With a gentle hum, the walkway solidified, glowing white wherever the mirror reflected its light. He pointed the mirror before him like a torch. "Follow the glowy trail to the prize. Seems easy enough."
"Yeah!" she cheered. Then she stopped, noticing that Auron had yet to follow her. He still stood on the forest floor beside Braska, looking uneasy. "Hey! What're you waiting for? Let's go!"
"Go on," Braska prodded gently. "Our camp has been set here, I can simply wait for your return."
"But my lord—"
Braska's expression grew stern. "I will be fine. Do not keep Jecht waiting."
Sighing, Auron stepped onto the path. When he didn't fall through, a muscle in his jaw twitched; soon, he was striding towards them. "I don't like this," he grumbled when he caught up.
"You need to relax a little," she chided. "Braska can take care of himself, and I'm pretty sure the spirits won't let us get lost." Thanks to Auron's hesitance, Jecht was already further ahead. "C'mon!" she insisted, tugging his arm. "Scared you'll fall off?"
"It's not the heights I'm afraid of," he replied, still visibly troubled. "Why am I here? I shouldn't be a part of this." He glanced at her. "I'm not even certain you should, either. Your weapon is already complete, isn't it?"
She hummed in acknowledgement, recalling her own trial to awaken the Godhand. "Maybe we're both extras here, but getting my weapon to wake up was hard. I think Jecht could use someone with him. And hey, the more the merrier, right?"
"…Very well." Auron quickened his pace.
The path of light wound haphazardly around the twisted tree branches. Here and there, bits of natural wood poked through, bursting with more traditional leafy foliage between the strange rock-like crystal formations.
Jecht forged ahead, navigating the twisting path with his beacon while she and Auron followed at a more leisurely pace.
Twilight was beginning to descend. The ever-present floating crystals in the forest were growing visible, refracting the faint light provided by the crystalline sheath over each tree. The glow intensified the higher they climbed; the darker it grew, the easier it was to see movement underneath the translucent bark of the surrounding trees.
"Look," she said, pointing at one of the clear, shining trunks next to Auron. "We must be getting close to the shrine. Can you see it?"
Auron squinted at the tree she'd indicated, then huffed in surprise. "I see water moving beneath the surface," he observed, reaching out to touch it. "Memory water flows freely through these trees?"
"Yep," she said, covering his hand and lacing their fingers. The silhouette of their entwined hands was dark against the soft blue glow. "I think the crystal coating is thinner near the top, so you can see it better up here."
"Cutting down the trees would make collecting the water simpler," he said after a pause.
Rikku smacked his hand. "What kind of an idea is that? You'd have to kill the tree to get the water out, you know? Betcha the spirits wouldn't be very happy about it, either."
Auron withdrew his hand. "Harvesting the forest might save a few lives, but the people would grow greedy, and this land would die, I suppose."
It'll die when we defeat Sin, she thought with a pang.
Still, there was no reason to disrupt the peace of the forest spirits by rushing the process.
Surrounded by glowing trees, they continued on and soon caught up with Jecht, who was standing at one of the forks in their path. He swung the mirror around until one of the branches sparkled; it led further upwards, ending at one of the largest glowing seed pods Rikku had ever seen. The familiar-looking sphere was surrounded by enormous crystalline thorns and seemed to absorb the surrounding light as they approached.
"Huh. That is one big damn tree," Jecht muttered, sounding impressed. "I don't see no shrine though." He climbed his way up the last of the path. "You sure this thing is workin' right, Blondie? 'Sides this mutant blitzball, this place don't look no different from—" Jecht froze.
The pod began to sparkle, a mote of light starting from its center and spreading outwards. It pulsed, and Jecht's mouth fell open.
"What is he doing?" Auron asked, a curl of almost-worry in his voice. He moved to touch Jecht.
"Shh," she whispered, yanking Auron's arm back. "This is the right place. He's already begun the ritual."
Auron's eyebrow went up. Other than Jecht's unnatural stillness and the strange radiance being emitted by the tree, everything was quiet around them, as if even the subtle hum of the crystals had silenced to watch the proceedings.
There was no change in the surroundings—no indication that anything beyond the norm was going on—before Jecht drew his sword and held it up. It floated from his grasp, as though caught in an invisible current, bobbing before the shrine.
"Yeah," Jecht said, seemingly apropos of nothing as he pulled out the Neptune Sigil and Crest. His shoulders tensed, and his fingers clenched around the symbols.
"This is the hard part," she stage-whispered to Auron, who looked confused—and irritated about it. "His visions should be starting soon."
"Visions?" Auron paused, a look of understanding passing over his face. "What do you think he's seeing?"
"The Mercury Sigil showed me my greatest hopes," she said. "And the Crest showed me my greatest fears."
And I'd rather not revisit that, thank you very much. It was hard enough getting through it the first time.
She cleared her throat. "You have to accept both of them to get your weapon to accept you. I've never seen anyone fail, but I guess how long it takes depends on you."
As she spoke, the Neptune Sigil rose out of Jecht's outstretched hand before being sucked into the black sword in a brilliant flash of light. The Crest, however, remained stationary in Jecht's other hand; sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Perhaps he dreams of his family in his Zanarkand," Auron mused.
"Must be tough," she agreed, seeking out Auron's hand and clutching it. They stood vigil as Jecht struggled for what seemed like an eternity.
Eventually, the Crest pulsed and rose into the air as well.
Another flash of light struck the sword, and the original runes on it morphed, elongating into new red symbols. The sword, too, changed slightly, lightening to a gleaming silver at its tip, which faded into its previous light-absorbing black near the hilt.
Rikku tilted her head and squinted at the still-glowing runes on the weapon as it drifted its way back towards Jecht. They seemed to form a familiar, stylized image. Like fish? Or maybe whales…?
Reaching out, Jecht grabbed the handle, then dropped to one knee. Panting, he leaned his weight on the sword.
"Damn," he choked, blinking.
"Are you alright?" she called out, releasing Auron and skipping to Jecht's side.
She started to kneel when a low ring filled her ears, and Jecht's image grew fuzzy.
What? What's going on?
:: Have you the Celestial Weapon? ::
Rikku's head shot up, staring at the gigantic seed pod. Her vision tunneled as it seemed to unfold and absorb her; some part of her recognized the signs from when she'd initially awakened the Godhand.
Why is this happening? My weapon's already awake!
Mechanically, she reached for her claw and undid the straps holding it to her arm. It drifted away, swaying in the air before her.
:: What do you want? ::
If she could have blinked, she would have. It was the same question Bahamut had asked before bringing her to the past in the first place. She knew the question as intimately as she knew her answer.
I want my own story, she began. But it wasn't just that anymore. It had changed somewhat, shifted without much notice as she'd traveled alongside the others. …I want Auron—the real one—to be a part of my story.
:: What is real? ::
Two Aurons appeared in her mind: one young, fiery, and devoted. One old, weary, and restless. Two Jechts: one down-to-earth and loyal, the other distant and inhuman. Two Braskas: one emotional and driven, one a stone-faced statue. Two Keyakkus, one cold and calculating, the other doting and protective.
No… I don't want to see this! Don't show me this!
Now Yuna, sweet and innocent as a Summoner at seventeen, jaded and irreparably heartbroken as a Gunner at nineteen. Tidus, all smiles and optimism, and Shuyin, with his murderous glares.
The images kept coming, relentless and unforgiving.
A tendril of icy fear crept across Rikku. Was the shrine showing her a glimpse of the truth, or just a vision to mislead her? She didn't even understand why she was being challenged. Hadn't she already done this?
She wanted to shut her eyes and deny the assault. This is real. Everything that's happened has to be real. Auron, Jecht, and Braska—they're all real. Aren't they?
:: Do your dreams still rule your existence? ::
A hot spike of anger overrode her confusion.
They're not dreams! My Auron is not just a dream! This is real, and I won't let you fool me into doubting myself, or them!
With her anger, strength blossomed. She opened her eyes and struck out, trying to drive away the images assaulting her. Her vision cleared; she was still half-crouched, staring up into the glowing shrine.
:: Then complete the ritual, and accept your own power. ::
Something in her mind shifted, and a sheen of light surrounded the Godhand, before it bobbed back towards her. She stumbled forward to catch it as gravity returned and the weapon fell.
Her eyes widened at the gleaming spikes and bright red varnish on the claw; the weapon had changed. It felt more powerful somehow—faster, more streamlined, as if it had been optimized when she hadn't even realized it needed a tuning in the first place. "What just happened?" She stumbled.
Jecht grabbed her other arm and righted her. "I was 'bout to ask the same thing," he said, still waxy and pale-faced. "You spaced out on us. Snapped outta it real quick, though—"
Rikku let out a squeak of surprise and Jecht flailed and struggled to keep a grip on his sword as they were hauled violently backwards.
Auron dragged them down the path, ignoring their protests until they were good distance away from the shrine. Releasing them, looked her over. "Rikku?" he asked, worry lining his voice.
"I'm okay," she managed, catching her breath and trying to slow her racing heart. "Better than Jecht, I think."
Jecht sat up from where he'd been tossed aside, rubbing his head and looking irate. "Thanks for carin', man."
"Remind me why I rescued you again," Auron deadpanned, shooting a glare over his shoulder.
"I'm fine, really," she cut in, poking Auron. "We weren't in any danger. The Celestial trial is always like that. I'm not sure why I had to go through another one, but I think it changed my weapon."
Jecht held his sword up, running his hand down the flat of the blade. "I know it changed mine."
Collecting her scattered thoughts, she pushed aside her confusion and focused on her slowly budding excitement. I got a weapon upgrade! I wonder what my Godhand can do now? Ooh! I can't wait to test it!
"This is great!" she cheered, scrambling to her feet with Auron's aid. "So, did your sword power up?"
"Yeah, I guess." Jecht sounded subdued. Frowning, some of her excitement dissipated as her eyes flitted to his face. The usual reaction during Yuna's Pilgrimage after powering up a weapon had always been one of satisfaction or glee. She had no idea why Jecht was being so contrary about the whole thing. I wonder what he saw in his trial? It must've shaken him up pretty bad, if he's not boasting about this to Auron yet.
"You guess? You still have no idea how to handle your weapon, do you?" Auron asked with a heavy note of disapproval.
"It's got a name now," Jecht said. "I heard it when I was seein' things. It's the Fang. Sin's Fang."
"... A strange name," Auron managed.
Not so strange, she thought, Bayra's words to Jecht echoing in her ears.
"Yeah, not like I chose it myself anyhow," Jecht answered despondently, giving the sword an experimental whirl. His eyes widened. "Whoa!" The reluctance marring his face slid away as he whirled the sword around again. He crouched and shifted his weight, testing his weapon in various holds. "Holy shit! It really did change! Blondie, is this—?"
Smiling, she nodded. "Yeah, it's normal. That's the power of a Celestial Weapon. Congratulations! You'll have to show us what you can do with it now. Go easy on Auron, okay?"
Auron snorted. "Who should go easy on whom?"
Jecht's toothy smile was full of promise. "We'll see about that next spar." His grin dropped. "Say… what about you?"
"What about me?" Auron asked, dry as the Sanubia Sands.
"Umm… well, don'tcha want to present yourself to the shrine too?" she chimed in.
Auron recoiled. "And share in the excitement? No." He turned to escape down the path, but Rikku caught the flap of his coat and yanked him back.
"Hey, if we suffered, you should too," Jecht said.
Rikku pinched Jecht, then pulled Auron near. "That's not it. The shrine's trial isn't really a bad thing."
Jecht snorted.
Rikku ignored him. "It may seem tough to get through, but it always makes you stronger."
Auron eyed the shrine. "I have no Celestial Weapon to present. There's no point."
"Oh, come on!" She pouted. "Self-reflection! Personal growth! Think of it as… as… auto-meditation! Warrior-monking made easy!"
Auron gave her an incredulous look.
"What's the worst that could happen?" she continued softer, turning him towards the shrine and giving him a gentle push. "The spirits said you were allowed up here, so there must be a reason. You should find out. Who knows when you'll be able to come back again?"
"Hnn." He shot them both a dissatisfied glare, but walked up towards the glowing pod. He stopped a few paces away from it and stilled.
She squinted at his back, trying to determine if he was falling into the same trance she and Jecht had.
"Think anything's happenin' to him?" Jecht asked her after a few beats.
"I don't know," she whispered back. It was hard to tell; Auron had as much of a poker posture as he did a poker face. Without seeing his expression, she wasn't sure if he was communing with the shrine or simply growing annoyed at their insistence he stand before it.
After a few more moments, he turned around and marched back down towards them.
"…Well?" Jecht said expectantly.
"Hnn," Auron grunted again, offering nothing helpful. He gestured at the path back down. "Let's return. We should rejoin Braska as soon as possible." He took the lead, brushing past Rikku.
She scratched her head. "I still can't tell," she complained.
"He's one tough cookie. Maybe you can wheedle it outta him later," Jecht said with a shrug. He took another look at his sword, then grinned. "Or maybe I can beat an answer outta him with this thing."
"Don't rough up my boyfriend," she said, cracking her knuckles in the Godhand. "Otherwise, I might have to test out my new weapon too."
"Yeah, yeah. We know you're all talk," Jecht laughed, jogging after Auron.
She huffed, but spared the shrine one last look over her shoulder. If there's no more shrine in the future, that means there's no more Celestial Weapons, either. Her feet stilled, and she whirled around to face the seed pod.
"I'm… I'm sorry we couldn't save you," she said into the trees. She noted a few blue butterflies fluttering around the shrine, and thought of Bayra, Donga, and Pukutak.
The seed pod darkened completely, leaving her with only the soft light of the trees and the echo of the crystals.
Blinking, she ducked her head and hurried after the others, trying not to dwell on her part in helping destroy Macalania's forest of dreams.
.x.x.x.
Dinner was a simple but welcome respite from the day's exertions; gathering around the campfire to relax—for once—put most of the group in good cheer.
Braska was interrogating Auron for the details of their visit to the shrine. Auron, for his part, was still not giving away what, if anything, had happened to him. Rikku, munching on a skewer of meat, watched Braska try to coax the information out of Auron, who stubbornly resisted all attempts by responding with grunts whenever possible.
She stifled a giggle and glanced over at Jecht, who remained silent. It was odd for Jecht to let a good mood pass him by, but he was lost to them, staring at the Fang which lay across his knees. Rather than joining Braska in heckling Auron, he was stroking his fingers over the red symbol on the blade.
"Hey, Jecht?"
He looked up at her, startled. " 'Sup?"
"You feeling okay?" She tilted her head towards Auron and Braska, who had also fallen silent—clearly, she wasn't the only one who'd taken note of Jecht's reticence. "Normally you'd be the first one to join the dogpile if Braska gave Auron a hard time. Still worried about whatever you saw at the shrine?"
Jecht's fingers drummed across the blade, glancing over each of them before answering. "Yeah. Just… thinkin' 'bout my Zanarkand. Maybe I'm homesick."
It was Auron who surprisingly broke the subsequent silence with, "I'm sure we can find a way to get you back. It's no less improbable than anything else we've done so far."
Jecht barked out a laugh, although the humor didn't meet his eyes. "Aww, so ya really do know how to care!"
Auron folded his arms and leaned back, expression scornful. "Why do I bother offering a hand to a rabid dog…?"
Jecht shrugged, but his pall of contemplation seemed to have lessened. "Naw, thanks, man. I mean it. 'S just… dunno if I'd wanna go even if we found a way back, see. If I'm just some dream, don't that mean goin' back is like fallin' asleep again?" He tapped his weapon. "Lookit this thing. It ain't even the same sword anymore, now that it's all woken up. Maybe I'm like that, too."
Oh, Jecht. Rikku bit her lip, the weight of her secrets seeming to increase every time she had the chance to say something but didn't. Would Jecht be homesick if he knew what his future held?
"That's an excellent way to think of it," Braska agreed. "Perhaps your presence here in Spira is evoking a positive change in yourself. It certainly has improved our merry band, hasn't it?"
"Yeah," Jecht said. His fingers traced the runes. "Say, Auron…"
Auron shifted, still looking annoyed. "What?"
"Can I ask you to do somethin' for me?"
"That depends on what you're asking."
"If you ever meet my boy, Tidus, will you give him a few pointers? Yanno, the way you did for me. Teach him to use a sword, yeah?"
Auron's face went slack with so much surprise Rikku found herself fumbling for a recording sphere to preserve the moment. His expression recovered before she could snap a picture, and she pouted, dropping the sphere into her lap. Just in case, she thought, waiting expectantly and watching Auron like a hawk.
Braska met her gaze and hid his grin behind the voluminous sleeve of his robe.
"What in Yevon's name—no," Auron said. "No," he repeated more emphatically, perhaps thinking of his time as a somewhat-unwilling surrogate parent to Yuna. "You're his father. There's nothing to stop you from teaching him yourself."
"See, that's the thing," Jecht said, growing animated. "I been thinkin'. I wanna bring my boy over here. I'll find a way, I know I will. But what if somethin' happens to me? There ain't no guarantees in Spira." He leveled a finger at Auron. "You're the most dependable person here, you know it. And with Blondie there next to ya now, I'm bettin' you'll still have a reason to be around after Braska's… done doin' what he has to."
Auron tensed and Braska shifted uncomfortably. As the mood nosedived, she tucked the unused sphere away and fiddled with the hem of her shirt.
Jecht forged on. "So that's why I'm askin' ya now. If you ever meet my son, I want ya to let him know his old man was lookin' out for him." Then, quieter, "I was tryin' to, at least."
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Auron sighed loudly. "That's making the assumption that you won't be around after the Pilgrimage is finished, either. Don't. Just don't."
"C'mon, man. I'm countin' on you. Whaddaya want me to do, ask Blondie to be his role model?"
"Hey!"
Jecht smirked at her tightly and turned back to Auron. "It's you or the Hypellos," he repeated. "Don't know anybody else here. Don't leave me hangin'!"
Lowering his hand, Auron pinned Jecht under an intense glare. "Fine, if just to shut you up."
"You'll do it?"
"This is a ridiculous idea, but if I ever meet your son, I will teach him to use a sword, just as I taught you. Satisfied?"
"Almost," Jecht said, grinning and clapping Auron on the shoulder. "Thanks, buddy."
He turned to face her, his smile dropping. "I got somethin' to ask you too, Blondie. But…" He looked around at their campsite. "Not right here. No offense, Braska, but this is for my boy."
"Hmm," Braska said. "It's quite all right. You're thinking of your future and your family. Take all the time you need."
Auron sighed again, then nodded. "Don't stay out for long. We're breaking camp early tomorrow." Though his words were gruff, Rikku felt his warm gaze trailing after her as she got up and followed Jecht away from the camp.
"So what's up?" she asked. "Do you need me to help look for something out here?"
"Naw," Jecht said, distracted. "Wait a sec." Boxing his fingers together, he cast a Scan and turned slowly, before stopping and grinning again. "Hah! Found a good spot. This is perfect!" He hurried forward.
She looked around when they arrived at Jecht's goal; he'd led her to a clearing with a small, shallow pool of water surrounded by dense forest. A tree rose out of the center of the pool with a few crystalline formations creating a small waterfall behind it. With the help of all the moving water, the light refracting around the clearing was almost unnaturally bright.
"It's pretty here!" she said, clapping her hands. "But what are we looking for?"
"We ain't lookin' for nothin'," Jecht said, settling down in front of the pool and crossing his ankles. "I got a favor to ask you."
"Okay." She crouched and wrapped her hands around her knees. "Must be something serious."
"Sorta. I wanna keep makin' these movies for Tidus. Fact, I wanna do another one right now." He paused, looking uncomfortable. "Think you an' Auron can pass 'em along to him? After? Y'know… in case somethin' happens to me. I want…" He trailed off, looking uncertain. "I want him to know. About Spira. About bein' real. I want him to feel this."
Oh, Tidus.
"Sure thing," she said, choking back a wave of sympathy. "We're starting to run kinda low on spheres, though… I guess we should've restocked in Besaid." She pulled out the one from earlier and checked it. "I think this one has a little something on it from before, but there's still lots of room left. Wanna use it anyway?"
"It's good enough," Jecht said, snatching the sphere from her grasp and turning it on. He placed it on the ground and settled back, trying—and failing—to look nonchalant.
He cleared his throat and shifted, testing out a few different poses. One of his legs pulled up and the other one hit the ground as he rested an arm on his bent knee. Then he lay down, propping up his head on one arm. A few seconds passed before he growled in annoyance and sat up again, planting both hands on his thighs.
Rikku watched him squirm and contort for a few more moments, then reached over and shut the sphere down. "We don't have that much empty space on it," she chided. "Or were you gonna start speaking sometime this year?"
"Alright already!" Jecht huffed. "I'm a little nervous this time! Can ya cut all that other crap out? I wanna look cool. You know, professional."
"Why?" she sniggered, even as she set about editing the recording. "You think Tidus wouldn't want to see how dorky you're being right now?"
" 'ey, smooth is my middle name."
"Sure thing," she hummed, unconvinced. Finishing with her tinkering, she placed the sphere back on the ground.
Jecht cleared his throat again and sat forward, draping his elbows on his knees. "I'm ready now."
Nodding, she reached down. The sphere hummed to life. "And… action!"
Jecht sucked in a deep breath, thinking for a moment. She rolled her eyes and let her finger hover over the stop button, but he started speaking before she could press it.
" 'ey," he said, uncharacteristically solemn. "If you're sittin' there, watching this… it means you're stuck in Spira, just like me."
Rikku's smile faded. I know this one, she realized. I really did end up giving this message to Tidus. She watched as Jecht sounded out what she realized the sphere recording really was: his final goodbye to his son, and tried to ignore the shivers running down her spine.
No matter what I do, nothing changes. Everything is happening just like I remember it. I thought… maybe, after we passed through Macalania the first time and he didn't create this, maybe then… maybe it'd be different. But… but now…!
"You might not know when you'll get back home, but you better not be cryin'!" he rallied. Then he wilted a little. "Although, I guess I'd understand."
He looked down at his hands, and she took a wild guess that his sudden urgency to create this particular sphere had been spurred by the visions he'd received at the shrine. Maybe Jecht's biggest fear is never seeing his family again.
Jecht sat up, his face hardening. "But, you know what? There's a time when you have to stop cryin' and move on. You'll be fine."
She wondered if he was saying it just for Tidus' benefit, or also to convince himself. He pulled himself together and smiled confidently at the camera.
"Remember, you're my son. And…" He trailed off, uncomfortable.
Tell him you love him! she insisted silently.
"Well, uh…"
Tell him you're proud of him!
A look of panic crossed his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. She scrunched her brows together, gesturing for him to continue, and Jecht flushed red.
"Never mind," he growled. "I'm no good at these things." He shot to his feet and stomped over, turning the sphere off himself. "You can stop laughin' now. Go on, yuk it up and get it outta your system."
"Why would I laugh?" She threw her hands up. "You were doing so well! I thought it was nice," she admitted. "But why'd you choke at the end?"
Jecht turned red again and crossed his arms, glaring at nothing in particular. "I can't say it, man. Sure, he's my son, but I don't go around moonin' over my feels like you an' Auron do. It ain't manly!"
She pursed her lips, vaguely annoyed at his assessment of herself and Auron, wrapped up with his backwater ideas about how manly men conducted themselves in general. "I know you have a reputation to protect, but really? You have to posture in front of your own son? C'mon, he's just a little kid!"
He couldn't meet her eyes. "Never was the touchy-feely type."
Rikku sighed and stood up. "This has nothing to do with being manly or touchy-feely, you big dummy. Tidus is your son. Maybe he needs to hear how you really feel sometimes."
Jecht kicked the water. "I'm tryin'!"
"Well, try harder!" she scolded. "You're the one who told me to say what you mean when it's important. Otherwise, it'll be Tidus filling the blanks in his head with things that aren't true." She shoved his own advice back at him along with the sphere. "I'm going back to camp before your sphere overflows from that testosterone. Just think about it, okay? It's fine if you're too embarrassed to do it in front of me, but don't hold back for your own son. He deserves that much from you."
She made her way towards the forest path, stopping when she heard the telltale sound of the recording sphere being activated. Jecht's voice was so quiet she had to strain to hear him.
"Anyways... " he mumbled. "I believe in you. Be good. Goodbye."
Sin's Fang is the official name of Jecht's best sword in Dissidia.
Rikku's Godhand changed because it adjusted to reflect her changing goals. She's a different person as an experienced adventurer of twenty than she was as a green Guardian of fifteen. Her weapon changed to reflect her mindset. I'm not sure there's ever going to be a need to explicitly mention Celestial weapon abilities in the fiction, so here they are as a footnote:
Sin's Fang: Break Damage Limit, Triple Overdrive, Piercing, Counterattack
Godhand (old): Break Damage Limit, Triple Overdrive, Double AP, Gillionaire
Godhand (new): Break Damage Limit, First Strike, Evade & Counter, Magic Counter
And yes, Auron trolled Jecht. Did you catch it? ;-) Happy Holidays everyone!