Fic: Completing the Circle
Title: Completing the Circle
Fandom: pre FFX
Characters: Auron, Braska
Summary: Braska's final summoning; unpolished, short and weird.
For: 30_fantasies
Theme: 1) Prophecy
The crisp blue of the sky blinks away as Sin looms over them. Everything falls dark in its shadow as a knot forms in Aurons gut. This is it, this is our chance. He bites down on his lip, fingers drawing to a vicelike grip around the sword hilt.
Screaming out a battle cry he charges, his steps devour the ground at an alarming speed. He passes Braska without a backwards glance and brings cold steel down in a sweeping arch. He connects and flesh parts. Sin stares down at him, shifting slightly to view him better. Auron brings the sword up again and once more slices it through leathery skin.
Through the deafening nothingness he can hear Braska calling to him, telling him it’s pointless.
Braska; the hypocrite.
His teeth clench together tightly and the sword comes down again. His effort is met with a mild rumble of annoyance before he feels his feet swept out from under him and the rush of air.
He hits the ground hard and wheezes. Feet scrape the dirt as he pulls himself to his feet, a mixture of willpower and desperation driving him.
He’s been thrown back quite a distance and as he prepares to rush back Braska steps forwards.
Arms rise in a delicate arc and Auron recognises the signs of a summoning.
Braska… please don’t…
The earth trembles and Auron struggles to steady himself against the resounding shockwave.
Around Braska the ground splits, gouging out ravines in every direction.
Auron, unable to reach him, is left standing, mouth agape as colour explodes around Braska’s fragile form, burning him from the inside out.
Over the roaring of the earth he can hear Braska’s final scream.
The Aeon emerges, pushing Braska body apart as it is summoned. There is a sickening wet sound as Braska life is extinguished, the broken parts of him scattering. But Auron can’t look away.
His Summoner greets him in a wet spray. The air is tainted metallic and he can’t help but breathe it in. The taste of blood swims on his tongue and he swallows back the bile forcing its way up his throat.
His legs give and he lands heavily on his knees, despair weighing him down.
Fingers land on something soft and wet, undoubtedly part of his late companion.
Then his stomach lurches and he twists vomiting on the battlefield.
He has to force the air back into his lungs, he has to hold himself together and he has to watch.
Another wave of force strikes him and again he is thrown back. This time he remains still on the ground, his head throbs and darkness creeps over his vision.
Another waste…he thinks before consciousness escapes him.
Fandom: pre FFX
Characters: Auron, Braska
Summary: Braska's final summoning; unpolished, short and weird.
For: 30_fantasies
Theme: 1) Prophecy
The crisp blue of the sky blinks away as Sin looms over them. Everything falls dark in its shadow as a knot forms in Aurons gut. This is it, this is our chance. He bites down on his lip, fingers drawing to a vicelike grip around the sword hilt.
Screaming out a battle cry he charges, his steps devour the ground at an alarming speed. He passes Braska without a backwards glance and brings cold steel down in a sweeping arch. He connects and flesh parts. Sin stares down at him, shifting slightly to view him better. Auron brings the sword up again and once more slices it through leathery skin.
Through the deafening nothingness he can hear Braska calling to him, telling him it’s pointless.
Braska; the hypocrite.
His teeth clench together tightly and the sword comes down again. His effort is met with a mild rumble of annoyance before he feels his feet swept out from under him and the rush of air.
He hits the ground hard and wheezes. Feet scrape the dirt as he pulls himself to his feet, a mixture of willpower and desperation driving him.
He’s been thrown back quite a distance and as he prepares to rush back Braska steps forwards.
Arms rise in a delicate arc and Auron recognises the signs of a summoning.
Braska… please don’t…
The earth trembles and Auron struggles to steady himself against the resounding shockwave.
Around Braska the ground splits, gouging out ravines in every direction.
Auron, unable to reach him, is left standing, mouth agape as colour explodes around Braska’s fragile form, burning him from the inside out.
Over the roaring of the earth he can hear Braska’s final scream.
The Aeon emerges, pushing Braska body apart as it is summoned. There is a sickening wet sound as Braska life is extinguished, the broken parts of him scattering. But Auron can’t look away.
His Summoner greets him in a wet spray. The air is tainted metallic and he can’t help but breathe it in. The taste of blood swims on his tongue and he swallows back the bile forcing its way up his throat.
His legs give and he lands heavily on his knees, despair weighing him down.
Fingers land on something soft and wet, undoubtedly part of his late companion.
Then his stomach lurches and he twists vomiting on the battlefield.
He has to force the air back into his lungs, he has to hold himself together and he has to watch.
Another wave of force strikes him and again he is thrown back. This time he remains still on the ground, his head throbs and darkness creeps over his vision.
Another waste…he thinks before consciousness escapes him.