78: The Course of History

The sun rose slowly; Auron was sitting by the still-warm ashes, meditating. Braska's staff lay across his thighs.

Rikku watched him taking in slow, even breaths. He almost looked peaceful, though the cut over his eye was red and angry. He couldn't bring himself to finish the job Braska had started and she could tell it wouldn't heal well. It was likely he'd have difficulty opening that eye ever again once the scar set.

That scar wasn't just his, either; looking at it was a reminder of her own defeat. She'd thought she'd tried hard enough, that her plan to beat Jihl would have kept Auron, Braska, Jecht, and even Tidus alive. That together, somehow, team BARJ could forge a new way into the future. She could have lived with her memories or even herself disappearing if everyone else would make it to the Eternal Calm.

Now, though, everything was wrong. History was careening down its pre-ordained path. Jecht was gone – alive still, maybe, but no longer himself. He'd been her first friend here, and rescued her in the end – even knowing that she'd held back the truth about Dream Zanarkand's origins.

And Braska… he'd known, somehow. She'd felt it when he'd wished them goodbye, here in the Calm Lands; he'd inherently understood that defeating Sin would always come at a price. He'd been readying himself to pay it for their entire journey. But that look of surprise on his face before he died would haunt her – knowledge hadn't prepared him for that moment any more than their ignorance had. She was glad, in a way, that he hadn't realized she was bound to him. At least it had saved him from the suffering Auron had gone through on the way to Zanarkand.

But she felt his absence keenly; he and Jecht both. She was gutted, like their departure had torn away the warm, human parts of herself that she'd come to take for granted. All she had left now was Auron, and he'd retreated into a tightly wound ball of grief, unable to give her comfort any more than she could reciprocate. Even her presence was a wound to him, now; he'd seen Bahamut's Fayth and knew she was dying, too.

She studied Auron's scar, knowing exactly how it would look when it healed. History was reaching out to claim him, too, and she was being pulled right alongside him.

Rikku turned her face into the rising sun. It did little to warm the chill inside her. At first, she'd thought it was sorrow. She'd been content let it fester inside of her; a punishment for failing both Braska and Jecht. But it wasn't just her misery or the bite of the night air. Lifting her hand, she could see faint rays of sunlight shining through her skin. She was losing substance again. She hadn't realized Bahamut's favor would be so short.

Sucking in a deep breath, she stilled, unwilling to stir Auron from the only rest he'd managed to find that night. It was strange, spending the evening with him in such complete and utter silence. She missed how much the four of them had chattered together whenever they made camp. It felt… lonely.

I'm disappearing. She wished she had the courage to reach out and shake Auron. Maybe it would be better if he woke and she was already gone, though. Then he wouldn't have to suffer through the process of watching her leave him, too.

"You aren't alone," a quiet voice whispered in her ear. Jolting, Rikku looked at the hand on her shoulder; brown skin and calloused fingers. She looked up and saw a Crusader staring down at her, finely muscled from his rigorous training and dressed in his full armor. His short hair was a surprising shade of brilliant honey blonde. He didn't smile at her, but his look was sympathetic. He felt familiar.

"Aren't you—" she asked, and he squeezed her shoulder, his eyes brightening until flames licked out from them. Strength flooded through her, and she held up her palm to the sun again – completely solid.

Ifrit nodded at her. "I will walk with you as far as I can go." He moved behind her, his other hand settling on her opposite shoulder. They felt like twin furnaces, filling her with warmth.

She looked up at Auron, who'd opened his one eye. He stared at her. "Who were you talking to?"

Ifrit remained silent and still, his grip on her shoulders keeping her from floating away. Rikku realized Auron couldn't see him. "My memories," she said, unwilling to place her burden on his already buckling back.

He looked at her, breathing slowly in and out. "How long will it be before Sin returns?"

"Ten years… give or take a few months," she replied.

He exhaled softly. "How did Yuna manage to do it? Why did she succeed, when we failed? What was the difference?"

Rikku dropped her head. "Jecht. Jecht is the difference."

Auron shifted minutely, the only sign of his surprise. "You mean…" You knew.

It lay there between them; a heavy accusation, unspoken, because Auron couldn't – or didn't want to – hold her accountable.

"I mean Yuna never made a Final Aeon," she blurted in a rush. "She never became a High Summoner. When we met Yunalesca, she and Tidus… they rejected her. And then we killed her. We killed Yunalesca and sent her to the Farplane. So there'd never be any more Final Aeons, ever again."

"Then what about me?" Auron asked her harshly. "What about my destiny? You said this was supposed to be my story. But you never told me what my role was in all of this. In yours."

Rikku bit her lip. "You were…." Bitter. Broken. Tired. Dead. Only the last didn't apply right now, and she wondered how long she could keep that from happening. Auron was the one who'd asked her not to leave him first. She felt the weight of Ifrit's hands, and knew she was going to break her promise to him sooner or later. Did she even have the right to ask him to stay behind, to try to live on by himself, when she couldn't do the same for him?

The silence drew out, and Auron's lips thinned. "You told me the man you loved died defeating Sin."

Rikku flinched and looked away.

"It was always me, wasn't it." His dry laugh was hoarse. "So even this is denied to me. We won't all die together." She felt his gaze burning into the side of her face. "Were you ever going to tell me the truth?"

She bit the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood. He still didn't realize. He thought he was going to die fighting Jecht. "Some truths are too hard to say," she whispered. Ifrit's fingers tightened around her shoulders.

There was a soft rustle of cloth; then the heavy thunk of his boots as he stalked away.

She looked up and saw Braska's staff. He'd left it behind. After a moment, she sprung to her feet and grabbed it, unwilling to let go of that last piece of Braska. Then she gave chase. "Auron! Wait! Where are you going?"

He didn't answer her for a moment, his jaw working. Then he looked over and sighed, seeing her clutching the staff to her chest. "We need to find a way to cross the Scar." He pointed ahead of them, in the distance. "It's narrowest to the north. We'll make it by the midday if we hurry. The fiends are smaller on this side."

The marched in silence for a while after that, dispatching what few fiends they came across easily. It was still strange and uncomfortable, though; battling their way through without the assurance that Jecht and Braska would be right behind them, backing them up. Her spectral companion, Ifrit, stayed with them throughout, a silent observer, his hands periodically coming to rest on her shoulders whenever she stilled. Auron remained unaware of their silent tag-along.

"Are you mad at me?" she eventually worked up the courage to ask.

Auron shifted, then turned his good eye down towards her. "No. Why?"

"Because you're… different." Closed off. Cold.

"I'm angry," he said carefully. "But I'm not angry at you." He grimaced. "It would have come to this with or without you here, wouldn't it? This is all because of the false hope that the Church of Yevon was built upon. From the beginning, all Summoners were destined to fail. Yunalesca expects it. Revels in it." He huffed out a low breath, his eye narrowing. "But at least there's still something I can do for them."

"You mean get back to Yunie and take her to Besaid?"

"After. My first duty is something I can handle here and now." He turned his head to look at her. "I should thank you for giving me the answer on whom to point my blade at. Mika always wanted me to be a killer. I can try to meet his expectations just this once." He came to a stop, looking at the gorge. "This is it."

"Wait wait, what do you mean point your blade at? You aren't seriously thinking of going back up there and confronting Yunalesca, are you?"

Auron's gaze thawed as he looked at her. "You don't have to come with me. You seem… weaker," he said. "It will be dangerous as it is, and she's already demonstrated that she can control you. Maybe you could wait at the base of Mount Gagazet. The Ronso would welcome you as a hero now and…" He swallowed, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. "We don't know how fragile Bahamut's gift will end up becoming, if you fight by my side." Don't leave me, he told her with the gentle press of his fingertips.

She couldn't argue with him, not when Ifrit's hands lay heavy across her shoulders. Auron didn't seem to realize, though, that whatever Bahamut had done to restore her inside of Sin wasn't a permanent fix.

"But first, we cross here." He gestured at the narrow split in the gorge. Rikku squinted. It was true; the gap was the narrowest at the point he indicated. It still looked to be nearly twenty feet across. The bigger problem was the cliff wall on the other side of it, though.

"How are we supposed to cross it here and not just fall off?" she asked, daring to look down the ravine. The drop was still so steep that she couldn't see the bottom. "Even if we made it across, that's a wall on the other side!"

Auron rolled his shoulders. "It won't be a problem. I'll go first and help you up afterwards." He was terse and focused, acting as though they still had a schedule to keep.

"Aren't you scared of falling?" she asked him. "And why are you in such a hurry?"

He paused at that, and looked at her. "All my worst fears have been realized. What's left to be scared of?"

She clutched the staff tighter to her chest. "You sound like Braska, you know," she whispered.

He turned to her and put his hands on her forearms. "If I stop now, everything will catch up to me. And then I won't be able to move at all." He shook his head. "I won't let it end here. I won't let despair take me and I won't become one of the fiends that wanders these fields. As long as I have a goal, I can push on."

Carefully, he took the staff out of her hands and pulled loose the colorful Kilikan scarf around her waist. "There," he said as he bound the weapon securely to her back. "You'll need your arms free to climb the gap. When this is all over, we'll take Yuna to Besaid. We can think about how to reach Jecht's Zanarkand while we're there. We'll have ten years."

She wondered if he could hear the lie he was telling himself. It was in the finality of the smile he gave her, the brevity of the kiss he planted on her forehead. He was already dying, at least on the inside. Both of them knew that he wouldn't be able to wait peacefully in Besaid for ten years, pretending ignorance and counting the days until Jecht returned as a terror rather than a hero. He might have even guessed that she wouldn't be able to stay by his side for that long. But his fingers still lingered against her skin, savoring the touch, and he let those comforting lies fall from his lips.

She smiled up at him. I taught you too well, didn't I? "Yeah," she told him, nodding. "We'll have all the time we need."

He looked at the gap, then the fields behind them. "I'll need a running start," he said. There was an awkward silence as they both processed Jecht's absence.

Rikku put her hand over her belt. "I might be able to help there," she told him, activating her Songstress sphere and moving a few paces away from him. "Just don't fall." She traced the quick dance steps that would speed up Auron's movement.

He backed away a good distance from the edge of the gorge and crouched. When her magic took hold he set off at a run, barreling straight up to the edge of the cliff side. He swung his arms up as he jumped, pulling in his heels, and Rikku danced even faster, willing him to clear the divide. His feet hit the sheer edge of the wall and he scraped his boots against it in a vertical run, giving his arms just enough of a boost to reach the high ledge. Grabbing on, he hung from the edge for a moment, catching his breath and balance, before scrambling up and rolling to safety.

Rikku stopped dancing, relief flooding through her. "That was amazing!" she shouted, waving at him. When she abandoned the Songstress costume, though, the exhaustion hit her like a fully-powered machina punch. She sank to her knees and tried to control her breathing. "Huh," she puffed. "It wasn't ever this hard to dance before…"

Ifrit kneeled beside her, one hand on her shoulder. "If you keep using that, you'll burn out more quickly," he warned her. "I can't carry you much further."

"I won't make that jump," she huffed, eying the gap. Ifrit helped her to her feet.

"Rikku!" Auron called from the other side. "Jump over! I'll catch you!" He leaned over the edge and held his arms out, beckoning.

Taking a deep breath, she crouched low. I won't be left behind! Then she launched herself into the same run. The moment her foot left the edge of the ledge, though, she could tell she didn't have enough power to reach Auron's outstretched arms.

I'm gonna fall!

"You won't," Ifrit whispered, and she felt him grab her under her arms and fling her across the gap.

"Aaah!" she screamed, limbs wind milling, not only clearing the distance but also soaring over a surprised Auron by a good few feet, who twisted to watch her tuck and roll onto the ground behind him.

She sat up breathing heavily, her heart pounding. "Ifrit?" she whispered, looking around. But the Fayth was gone.

Auron kneeled next to her. "Are you injured?" he asked, noting her pale face.

"I thought I was gonna end up at the bottom of the gorge!"

Auron snorted, offering her a hand, which she took gratefully. "You're being too modest." He pulled her up. "I should thank you for waiting long enough to find a point where I could cross."

Rikku dropped her head. "Not really," she muttered, trying to tell him why she'd succeeded. The words caught in her throat, and when he turned away from her the moment was lost.

"Let's go." His eyes were focused on the distant peak of Mount Gagazet. "We can be at the Ronso settlement before nightfall." He led the way forward, pushing through the grasslands towards the base of Gagazet in land-eating strides.

Swaying for a moment on her feet, Rikku felt like she was going to be sick. Pushing it down, she rushed to keep up with him.

.x.x.x.

As expected, they were hailed as heroes upon returning to the Ronso village. Everyone had seen the light show created by Sin's destruction. They'd already sent runners to Bevelle, in fact. Thankfully, the Ronso seemed to understand more than any other race in Spira that Sin's defeat wasn't only a cause for joyous celebration. The entire village greeted Auron and Rikku with a deep bow; even Kimahri was present this time. As they marched past the rows of Ronso bending to them, the villagers broke out into a solemn, chanting Hymn. Not a song of victory; an honorable send-off for Braska, who was no longer with them.

They were taken to the same cave they'd rested in two nights previous. Rikku had to cover her mouth when she saw the pelts still there, lying in the same four piles of bedding they'd left behind. Auron didn't comment when she crawled into Braska's pile, holding his staff tight against her chest, and curled into a ball. He pulled another pelt over her and sat by her side, his hand a comforting weight on her shoulder as she finally let herself weep into the musky furs.

She drifted into a restless sleep, lulled by the stroke of his fingers threading through her hair and gently working out the tangles. She dreamt of Jecht surrounded by his very own creation of Dream Zanarkand, arms crossed as he turned to greet them. She dreamt of Braska wandering the Farplane. She dreamt of Auron, grey-haired and restless, kneeling amidst clusters of ethereal flowers. Finally, she dreamt of Tidus picking her up off of the ground and wrapping his arms around her with a heavy sigh. She wailed and beat at his chest.

"This is why I told you to come back sooner," he scolded, sounding sad.

When she woke, dawn hadn't yet broken and Auron was gone. Drying her wet cheeks with the back of her hands, she grabbed the staff and used it to propel herself upwards. Staggering, she noticed that her legs reflected the dim light in a way that they shouldn't have. Then, leaning heavily on the staff, she limped her way out of the cave.

Only Kelda stood guard at the base of the mountain's ascent. She gave Rikku no indication of acknowledgement as she passed. Rikku wasn't sure if Kelda was merely being her usual stubborn self, or if the Ronso truly couldn't see her. But she couldn't stop to find out; she was already too far behind Auron.

The climb was grueling, but she was aided by the fact that the fiends all but ignored her, just as Kelda had. At some point, she noticed that she wasn't leaving behind any tracks in the deep mountain snow.

Auron still was, though, and she followed them doggedly up the mountainside, her fists tightening around the staff every time she saw scuffled snow from a battle or a splatter of blood indicating that he hadn't come out of an encounter unscathed.

When she caught sight of him, he looked almost like a fiend himself. He was a man possessed, slashing his way through the fiends foolish enough to challenge him with a vicious ruthlessness that he'd never displayed to her before. She struggled to catch up to him, but he was always just two steps ahead of her.

As they climbed higher, the wind blew more harshly. Rikku felt it might catch her and blow her off the face of the mountain like a scrap of cloth. She used Braska's staff to dig into the snow, anchoring herself; it, at least, remained solid and real.

She tried to call out to Auron, who was pulling further ahead of her again, disappearing into the snowstorm. But she was scared; scared that if he saw her like this, he'd only leave her even more quickly. Or maybe, she was more scared that he wouldn't see her at all. Her hands tightened around the staff and she drooped and swayed.

A pair of muscled arms encircled her before she could sink into the snow, and Rikku's head shot up. "Auron?!"

The huge man who'd caught her glared. Then he pulled Braska's staff out of the snow and pushed it against her roughly.

"You should take that with you," he snorted.

Rikku blinked. His skin was dark tan, weathered from too many years under the sun. And he was shirtless, dressed in attire more appropriate for sailing in the balmy south than any snowy mountain trek. A gauntlet similar to Auron's ringed one forearm, identifying him as a swordsman. His long white hair, divided into four low ponytails, seemed impervious to the whipping winds.

"Which one are you?" she asked as he leaned forward, placing two meaty hands against the side of her temples.

"The one you fear." Lightning sparked to life between his hands. When Ixion electrocuted her, it jolted feeling back into her extremities. She looked down; her legs were solid again, and buried deep into a snowdrift.

"C-c-cold!" she yelped, leaping out of the snow and dancing in place.

Ixion crossed his arms and glared at her. "Follow him. Or don't. I'll help you as long as I'm able."

She nodded and scurried away from him, heart pounding. Ixion didn't give off the same warm, companionable air as Ifrit had. The nape of her neck prickled and she felt his eyes on her back. Somehow, she knew he wasn't going to be helping throw her across any cliffs anytime soon. Which was probably a good thing, considering that they were halfway up Mount Gagazet already.

She wasn't certain how much time she'd lost in the snow, unraveling until Ixion pulled her back together again. The Fayth followed her silently through the dank caves, occasionally jolting her when her steps slowed. More evidence of Auron's passage was scattered about; discarded vials from healing tinctures and ethers, marking the path he'd taken.

She tried to visit the hot springs again, hoping that Auron had taken a moment to rest there. The entrance had already reduced itself to a narrow crack, though, much too thin for him to squeeze through. Continuing her walk along the Fayth Scar, there was still no sign of him. Her hand hovered over the backs of the people prolonging Jecht's suffering and keeping Tidus alive, and she shivered.

She made her way down the path to Zanarkand; it was sobering, with nothing but the wind and Ixion's stony face to keep her company. She stopped by the campsite, her memories swirling to life, and saw Braska kneeling behind Yuna's hunched back, weeping for everything he'd left behind. Jecht was standing shoulder to shoulder with Tidus on the promontory. And a younger Auron was looking down at an older version of himself. She moved on.

There weren't many fiends on the path to the Dome, and she was faster than all of them. The pyreflies streaming above her head were the only company she had, though her mind would often supply her with glimpses of the others running along the same path with her. A flash of Lulu's long skirt trailing behind her. Jecht stopping to stare just a little too long at a pile of rubble. Kimahri holding his hand up, and then beckoning her forward. Braska staring overhead at the river of pyreflies with a resigned smile. Tidus stopping and staring at Yuna's back, his mouth drawn tight in pain. And Auron, pushing them forward, always, no matter what his appearance was.

When they reached the dome, Ixion slowed down, his ever-present scowl deepening. He grabbed Rikku by the shoulder and jolted her once more, this time with what she thought was unnecessary force. She spun to look at him.

"Hey, what was that for?"

Ixion looked up at the Dome, then back at her. "I can't enter with you. She's too powerful. This is as far as I can bring you." His scowl softened slightly as he pressed his hand against her sternum and sent another blast of lightning through her. "Strength, child."

Rikku shivered, nodding. Then she turned and crept her way inside.

She heard the sounds of fighting on the far end of the dome; she was close. But as she stepped in, the pyreflies' cry strengthened, and her legs met resistance. It was like she was moving through thick, clotted motor oil. Gritting her teeth, she forced one foot in front of the other, fighting against the resistance.

From the sounds he was making, Auron was drawing every fiend and piece of ancient machina in the vicinity to himself. It was lucky for her; she didn't think she could fight anything even if she wanted to. But it also struck a deep, fearful nerve deep within. They'd had a rough time breaking through as a group; how was Auron making his way past all those fiends by himself?

Her foot crunched on another vial, and she shivered. Healing potions could restore physical injury to a body, but not even they could prevent exhaustion from taking hold and setting in. If the evidence he'd liberally littered behind him was any indication, he'd be running out of them soon anyway.

She fought her way forward, despairing when she looked over her shoulder and noticed how slow her progress was despite her best efforts. The sound of the fight was fading and soon the patrolling machina and restless undead would come for her, too.

This time, when she reached baby Seymour wailing for his mother, she didn't have the energy to tear through him. She lowered her head and concentrated on moving past him, ignoring his heart-rending sobs. So when the soft, white hand reached out to touch her, she let out a scream and nearly fell off of the platform.

"Anima?!" she said, looking up into the pale woman's dark eyes. "But… you don't work for Bahamut. Why are you helping me?"

Anima's Fayth straightened up and clasped her hands in front of her. "Your Summoner earned my respect. He has accomplished what my son wouldn't." Reaching out, she grasped Rikku's chin in her hand. "Here, in this Dome, I will lend you my strength."

Heart pounding, Rikku tried not to flinch away from her touch. When Anima released her, though, she was able to stumble backwards and catch herself, no longer physically hindered by Yunalesca's heavy presence.

"T-thanks," she stuttered, still fearful of the Fayth who'd nearly killed her. Turning, she ran, flying after Auron. He was slowing down; he had to be. She fled past ghostly images of Braska and Yuna, dancing in the cloister, and let out a groan of dismay when she reached the central pit. The platform was well out of sight, rumbles echoing from the depths.

Rikku paced the cloister nervously, waiting for the elevator to return and trying to ignore the melted stems of black candles and broken glass shards strewn across the floor. Trying to pretend the dark streaks across the stone underneath them were just dirt.

Yuna's guardians waited with her, watching the platform nervously. When she finally managed to take it down, she was vibrating with impatience. She leapt off of it before it even hit the ground, barreling her way back into Yunalesca's outer sanctum. The corner she and Auron had destroyed with their makeshift fire was completely restored; the room looked as pristine as it had the first time they'd visited.

Rikku trembled, the outer room itself whispering of Yunalesca's formidable power. The staff felt slick in her hands, but she raced forward. "Auron!" she screamed. The doors at the top of the stairs were open. "Auron, wait for me!"

"Hurry," Anima whispered.

Rikku ran faster than she'd ever before. Beyond the double doors, she heard Auron shouting.

"No! Where is the sense in all this? Braska believed in Yevon's teachings and died for them! Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!"

And Yunalesca's cool reply. "They chose to die… because they had hope."

She burst through the door, her face white, just as Auron rushed Yunalesca. It wasn't a memory she saw, this time, when Yunalesca's hand rose high, blocking his charge. He flew backwards, his body twisting through the air like a limp rag doll, and he hit the ground hard, his sword clattering a few feet away.

"No!" she screamed as the Samurai sphere on her belt cracked. But… it didn't shatter.

Yunalesca stepped forward, her pupils elongating into reptilian-like slits as she stalked towards Auron. "I told you to offer yourself to Braska," she chided him softly. "At least then, your death would have had meaning. Truly, what a waste," she sighed, her hair rising around her into vicious, pointed spikes.

"Don't touch him!" Her Grid activated on its own and Lenne stepped out, taking control of Rikku's body. She held Braska's staff aloft, twirling it expertly in one hand.

Lenne? What are you doing?!

Yunalesca's advance stopped, her eyes flicking over to Rikku. "Oh. It returned." Then they narrowed. "And it brought with it the idol singer." Her surprise morphed into disgust. "What a foolish death you died, girl. You should have performed your duty to my father."

Lenne was a still a Summoner, Rikku realized as her body dipped into a dance, ignoring Yunalesca's jibes. And suddenly, the swoops and the swirls as she swung the staff low and then high, twirling gracefully, made perfect sense.

Yunalesca's face contorted into rage as pyreflies began to drift away from her skin. "You would dare to Send me?" she hissed, raising her hands. She snapped her arms downwards abruptly, a shockwave pulsing out from her body that cracked the stone underfoot.

Rikku's feet caught and she stumbled, losing hold of the power.

Yunalesca strode forward with an ugly look on her face. "You forget that I am a Summoner too," she hissed, wresting the staff out of Rikku's grasp. Kicking Rikku backwards, she began to perform a Sending of her own. The pyreflies were still leaking out of her, too, as she danced. The look of absolute, incandescent outrage in her eyes made it clear that she wasn't going to stop, though.

Rikku staggered as Lenne trembled and released her hold on her body, even forcing her to drop the Songstress costume. She fell to a knee, for the first time feeling the raw pull of the Sending's power now that she no longer belonged in this time. She felt it rip Lenne out of her sphere, dissipating her presence. The masses of pyreflies in the dome allowed the songstress to project her original form one last time, her long hair flying as she tumbled away from Rikku on her hands and knees.

Lenne met her eyes. Her motivations were opaque, and she was sometimes cruel, but she'd always helped them in the end. Though fading quickly, she managed to smile at Rikku: the bright, polished smile of a professional. "Goodbye."

Yunalesca twirled and swept the staff up, and Lenne burst apart, pyreflies keening softly before they faded. When she heard the soft pop, Rikku didn't have to look to know that her Songstress sphere had shattered.

Yunalesca didn't stop dancing when Lenne faded, though. Her eyes were focused on Rikku, burning with anger. She whirled the staff again, and Rikku felt the Sending's pull tug at her own body, ripping even more pyreflies away from her. Yunalesca was damaging herself as well; the more she danced, the more she abandoned her humanity, her features becoming alarmingly serpentine. The summoner seemed determined to tear Rikku apart before she stopped, though.

The soul-rending pain peaked and then ebbed, and Rikku caught her breath, gasping. She looked at her hands, which were still there – they even started to solidify again. Confused, she scrambled to her feet, strength pouring back into her. The flood of pyreflies exiting her body slowed and then stopped, even though the speed of Yunalesca's dizzying Sending never let up.

Yunalesca eventually gave up, scowling, and lifted her arm. She looked surprised, and tried it again. Then she looked from her hand to Rikku. "What sort of an abomination are you?" she hissed.

Abruptly, Rikku realized that Yunalesca had been trying to stun-lock her again, as she had the first time. The reason why it wasn't working appeared as a pair of pale hands which touched Rikku's elbows, pulling her to her feet. Two long, slender arms wrapped around her chest, and a curtain of dark hair pressed against her cheek.

"Don't touch what is mine," Anima murmured, smiling at Yunalesca. She pulled away from Rikku, her hands sealing wounds Rikku hadn't even realized the Sending had torn into her. Her body felt solid, real, and powerful again, and her exhaustion evaporated.

"You? You would betray your creator?" Yunalesca hissed at the Fayth, shaking from side to side, her hair rising up like an agitated cobra's hood. Their ends twisted into spikes, pointing directly at Rikku. Her smile was cold and confident. "Well then. It shall be my duty to unmake you both."

A/N:
Songstress ability: Jitterbug (cast Haste on the party)