first one
--FFX
If telling the story would have made the guilt any easier, he’d have
spoken her name a thousand times. And when the cards were all laid down, wasn’t she
the real reason he was doing this? Not because of the guilt that kept him awake
nights, or the niggling voice (her voice, when he paused to examine it) telling him
that before long this Calm would end, and hadn’t he better do what he knew was his
job before things got really hairy…that, or he got Sent? While both of those were
legitimate and defensible reasons for his insane mission, when he was really honest
with himself, it was for nothing more noble than a desire to see her life saved.
Not Yuna, who had been his charge since she was too young to walk, but her cousin,
she of the golden hair and nimble fingers.
He’d ignored her, at first, until she became too annoying to write off, with her
hands rummaging through his pockets for the Ability Spheres she knew he
stashed and her smile, flickering fever-bright into his eyes until he was so
blinded by her he couldn’t see anything else. He’d done nothing, of course; not
only was he unequivocally and irrevocably dead, she was fifteen. He’d been
disgusted with himself most of the way from Bikanel to Zanarkand for even looking
at her…and absolutely loathed himself when she started looking back with curious,
confused eyes.
It had been a surprise to him, Rikku volunteering for sacrifice. Lulu and
Wakka he had expected, and Kimarhi would have done anything Yuna asked, but Rikku
was young, full of life, and too loathing of Yevon to really give herself up to Sin.
Or so he’d thought.
“But if an Al Bhed defeats Sin as the aeon, Yevon won’t be able to turn us away
anymore. And sure, Sin would come back, but wouldn’t Spira be better off united
against Sin than having Sin gone and nothing to distract them from their hatred
anymore? If Sin leaves, all there will be to hate will be the Al Bhed. Didja ever
think of that, Yunie?”
And of course, Yuna hadn’t. Hell, he hadn’t either. And thus, Rikku had once
again duped them all, only this time, she left them standing with their hands in
their empty pockets wondering where their gil had gone long enough that by the time
Auron had come up with a good counter argument, Kinoc was buying him a victory
drink in a Bevelle bar three days later, and both she and Yuna were dead.
It was Kinoc who had given him the idea to go back. Even knowing (or perhaps
because) he was an Unsent, he had been welcomed back into the arms of the temple,
and, with nowhere else to go but a niggling feeling that he shouldn’t fade away
just yet, he had accepted the room and small brigade of recruits they’d given him
to train. The Crimson Squadron, they’d been jokingly nicknamed, after the color of
his coat.
That was before Kinoc mentioned the time travel device unearthed by the Al Bhed
and brought to the temple. Auron had expressed a mild interest, trying to suppress
the swell of excitement in his chest, and three pints of Bevellian ale later Kinoc
had told him the passcode into the room.
It took him three weeks to decode the controls, but once he did he saw that the
machine was beautiful in its simplicity. Simply input the time and place, and the
machine operated like a sphere; just rewind and play, but you weren't watching, you
were living, with all the past experience under your belt besides. If, as Yevon
claimed, Sin had been summoned by machina, surely it had been ones like this, with
inner workings inconceivable to most, machina that simply worked, and only a
handful of people knew why.
He had decided on the day he met Yuna in Luca, only this time, instead of
loitering in the café and waiting for her to come to him, he would wander Luca and
let her spread her wings a little with Tidus in tow. Maybe pay a visit to the Al
Bhed docks and look for a certain fifteen year old princess with the wind in her
hair, make sure she was alive and well.
“This isn’t about love, or even lust.” Auron told himself as he climbed into the
machine. “I made Braska a promise concerning his daughter, and if she’s going to
die she’s going to do it for a reason.”
“Besides,” he continued as he turned on the machine and selected his destination
four years ago, “Auron Faris doesn’t lose so easily. Especially to a fifteen year
old girl with too much mouth and not enough clothing.”
He pushed the button, and closed his eyes.
If telling the story would have made the guilt any easier, he’d have
spoken her name a thousand times. And when the cards were all laid down, wasn’t she
the real reason he was doing this? Not because of the guilt that kept him awake
nights, or the niggling voice (her voice, when he paused to examine it) telling him
that before long this Calm would end, and hadn’t he better do what he knew was his
job before things got really hairy…that, or he got Sent? While both of those were
legitimate and defensible reasons for his insane mission, when he was really honest
with himself, it was for nothing more noble than a desire to see her life saved.
Not Yuna, who had been his charge since she was too young to walk, but her cousin,
she of the golden hair and nimble fingers.
He’d ignored her, at first, until she became too annoying to write off, with her
hands rummaging through his pockets for the Ability Spheres she knew he
stashed and her smile, flickering fever-bright into his eyes until he was so
blinded by her he couldn’t see anything else. He’d done nothing, of course; not
only was he unequivocally and irrevocably dead, she was fifteen. He’d been
disgusted with himself most of the way from Bikanel to Zanarkand for even looking
at her…and absolutely loathed himself when she started looking back with curious,
confused eyes.
It had been a surprise to him, Rikku volunteering for sacrifice. Lulu and
Wakka he had expected, and Kimarhi would have done anything Yuna asked, but Rikku
was young, full of life, and too loathing of Yevon to really give herself up to Sin.
Or so he’d thought.
“But if an Al Bhed defeats Sin as the aeon, Yevon won’t be able to turn us away
anymore. And sure, Sin would come back, but wouldn’t Spira be better off united
against Sin than having Sin gone and nothing to distract them from their hatred
anymore? If Sin leaves, all there will be to hate will be the Al Bhed. Didja ever
think of that, Yunie?”
And of course, Yuna hadn’t. Hell, he hadn’t either. And thus, Rikku had once
again duped them all, only this time, she left them standing with their hands in
their empty pockets wondering where their gil had gone long enough that by the time
Auron had come up with a good counter argument, Kinoc was buying him a victory
drink in a Bevelle bar three days later, and both she and Yuna were dead.
It was Kinoc who had given him the idea to go back. Even knowing (or perhaps
because) he was an Unsent, he had been welcomed back into the arms of the temple,
and, with nowhere else to go but a niggling feeling that he shouldn’t fade away
just yet, he had accepted the room and small brigade of recruits they’d given him
to train. The Crimson Squadron, they’d been jokingly nicknamed, after the color of
his coat.
That was before Kinoc mentioned the time travel device unearthed by the Al Bhed
and brought to the temple. Auron had expressed a mild interest, trying to suppress
the swell of excitement in his chest, and three pints of Bevellian ale later Kinoc
had told him the passcode into the room.
It took him three weeks to decode the controls, but once he did he saw that the
machine was beautiful in its simplicity. Simply input the time and place, and the
machine operated like a sphere; just rewind and play, but you weren't watching, you
were living, with all the past experience under your belt besides. If, as Yevon
claimed, Sin had been summoned by machina, surely it had been ones like this, with
inner workings inconceivable to most, machina that simply worked, and only a
handful of people knew why.
He had decided on the day he met Yuna in Luca, only this time, instead of
loitering in the café and waiting for her to come to him, he would wander Luca and
let her spread her wings a little with Tidus in tow. Maybe pay a visit to the Al
Bhed docks and look for a certain fifteen year old princess with the wind in her
hair, make sure she was alive and well.
“This isn’t about love, or even lust.” Auron told himself as he climbed into the
machine. “I made Braska a promise concerning his daughter, and if she’s going to
die she’s going to do it for a reason.”
“Besides,” he continued as he turned on the machine and selected his destination
four years ago, “Auron Faris doesn’t lose so easily. Especially to a fifteen year
old girl with too much mouth and not enough clothing.”
He pushed the button, and closed his eyes.