69: Marching Towards Destiny
The broken highway leading deeper into Zanarkand seemed to stretch endlessly before them. Ruins of shattered buildings jutted out of the water and loomed over the path like silent sentinels, markers of a distant past. Jecht led the way in; once Rikku explained that the "Temple" was really just Zanarkand's old blitzball stadium, he seemed to know exactly where to take them.
"There's little differences here an' there," he mused as they walked. "But it's the same as my Dream Zanarkand. Right there!" he said, getting excited as he pointed to a mound of rubble that to Rikku's scavenger's eye looked perfectly unremarkable. "That place served the best chili dogs around! Man, I wonder if it was as good here as it was back home." Every now and then, he would stop and stare at a building, seeming to recognize it. Sometimes he'd shake his head; sometimes he'd laugh. If someone was close enough to listen, he'd share an anecdote. Most of the time, though, he'd squint and the corners of his mouth would tighten before he moved on.
Braska hadn't argued at the sedate pace Jecht set, merely following along. More often than not, his gaze would drift up to the pyrefly sky overhead. It had taken him a long while to pick himself up off of the ground after seeing Rikku's memories back at the campsite. He hadn't sought anyone's company or comfort afterwards; he'd just stood up and said the only thing that mattered:
"It's time to go."
Other than contributing the occasional odd hum to Jecht's sporadic chatter he kept his own counsel, his eyes distant and haunted.
By comparison, Auron thrummed with nervous energy, increasingly more ill-contained the closer they drew to their goal. He was in constant motion, patrolling for fiends relentlessly. Rikku was hard-pressed to keep up with him; at the moment he'd separated himself from the group, who were further back along the road.
"Slow down," she gasped, nearly running into his back when he stopped unexpectedly and drew his sword. She peeked over his shoulder; standing in their way was a trio of Unsent monks, each wielding some type of exotic machina weaponry. They were fallen soldiers of Zanarkand, still guarding the city while trapped in their endless war. There'd been more than just a few of them blocking their path towards the dome. The sight of these masses of mindless, malicious Unsent had stopped shocking Auron after the first few times he ran into them; he quickly learned that the city was still teaming with the memory of life, and all of it was hostile.
"I can't," Auron answered her, unslinging his sword and rushing at one of the monks before it could pull out a flamethrower. He decapitated it neatly and then followed through, spearing its undead neighbor in the torso.
Rikku raced past him, leading with a punch that took out the final zombie before it could finish loading its gun. "If you keep racing ahead like this, they might surround you!" Pulling one of the candles she'd managed to grab out of another of the soldiers, she lit it and held it under Auron's nose. "Breathe," she instructed, pressing it into his hands. "These are pretty hard to steal, but they'll protect you a little from all the soldiers here."
She pulled another one out and, after a moment of consideration, lit up the small black candle and fanned the flame towards her face. It didn't smell like much, but the unsettling green smoke it released as it burned offered a small measure of protection from the myriads of warriors roaming the city, turning their eyes and sometimes even their blades away. But they were so hard to steal… the souls here were aided by the strength of the pyrefly river floating above and held onto their memories tenaciously. The paltry handful of candles she'd managed to obtain was rapidly dwindling under the quick pace Auron kept.
"Thank you," Auron mumbled, though his face was still pinched with worry. He glanced back at Jecht and Braska, who were both moving too slowly through the ruined city as though it was a tour, and let out a frustrated sigh. "But we cannot stop doing this. Look at those two. They're in no shape to help."
Sparing a glance at the other two wandering dreamily through the city, Rikku could only agree. Jecht might've been able to pull himself out of memory lane quickly enough if a fiend sprang up on him, but Braska's distracted mien clearly told her that he was lost to the dangers of the city.
"We'll keep them safe," Rikku said.
Auron snorted, brushing past her. "Will we now?"
Rikku flinched, and he stopped and sighed roughly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
"I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. I know… I know we have to continue. But I don't have to like it." He gave her a weary look, and it wasn't just mental fatigue. He really was fighting hard; they both were. The fiends and Unsent in Zanarkand were tougher than anything they'd faced traveling through the Calm Lands, but their battle participants had been cut down to two. She and Auron were working overtime to clear the path, particularly for Braska, who seemed to have checked out completely since seeing Yuna.
She wasn't helping Auron as much as she should've, either – she couldn't help but watch Braska holding himself together by fraying threads, insensible to the dangers surrounding him. It had fallen to her to flit back and forth between Auron and Jecht to set Braska's pace or change his trajectory while Auron did the bulk of clearing the path of deadly obstacles.
"We can't keep this up," Rikku complained as she finished dousing herself in the sickly green candle smoke. "Someone should talk to Braska." She grabbed onto a sleeve of Auron's coat to keep him from moving away. "We won't even reach the stadium like this! All the Unsent haunting here will do us in first."
"Or the fiends," Auron agreed, pushing her back behind some rubble and dropping to a crouch. "Speak of the devil. Look out, it's another one of those Behemoths."
"Ugh," Rikku swore, hunching down before the enormous Behemoth King could spot her. They held their breaths as it stomped right by the crumble of stone they were hiding behind. For one heart-pounding instant, it stopped and reared up onto its hind legs, inhaling deeply. A low rumble rolled from its throat, tail lashing in frustration at being unable to find anyone to hunt. Thankfully, the nearsighted fiend hadn't seemed to notice Jecht and Braska in the distance behind them, either. After a few tense moments, it chuffed, dropped to all fours, and moved on.
Slapping Auron's shoulder rapidly a few times, Rikku let out a wheeze. "This is so stupid! I'm going to talk to them. And you should come with." Stomping back towards the others, she marched straight up to Jecht and whacked him in the unarmored shoulder.
"Oww!" he yelled, grabbing his arm. "The hell was that for!"
"Get a grip! I know this looks like your Zanarkand, but this is insane! If you two keep getting distracted in here, Auron and I are gonna bite it!"
That started Jecht out of his stupor. He scowled at Rikku. "'Ey. That ain't funny, Blondie."
"Neither is this mental vacation you and Braska are taking! What the heck, Jecht?! We're surrounded by fiends, if you haven't noticed!"
"Oh! I, uh…" Jecht stopped and rubbed the back of his head, blinking. Then he drooped. "Yeah, sorry. I guess I didn't really wanna see," he admitted lowly. "Might be that I know some of them faces, right?"
"None of these Unsent are half as ugly as you," Auron grumbled, joining them. "But it would be far easier to deal with them if you would stop acting so irresponsibly." His tone softened as he looked at Braska, who was once again studying the star-studded sky. "Though I can hardly blame you. You're being led by example."
"Lay off it, Auron." Jecht lowered his voice and peeped at Braska. "The man just found out his lil' girl tried to kill herself. He needs some time."
A muscle in Auron's jaw ticked, and Rikku reached up and touched his elbow.
"We know, Jecht," she cut in. "But this is definitely not the place to do any sort of soul-searching. I mean
hello, look at it! With this many pyreflies around, we're practically in the Farplane!" Her voice carried a little more than she'd wanted, because Braska noticed and drew closer to them.
"My apologies. I know I have not been at my best here. I will… try to focus," he said, too quiet. His gaze settled on Rikku, and she flinched. He smiled slightly at that. "I promise you. I will not falter any longer."
Auron swore under his breath and turned away. "How close are we?" he asked Jecht after a moment.
Jecht crossed his arms, looking uncomfortable. "Oh… it ain't far from here. You'll see once we get up there," he added, pointing at a steep incline where the road had fractured and pushed up into a small hill. "The stadium was the main attraction o' Zanarkand, and this was the highway leadin' straight in."
"You can hear how close we are," Rikku agreed, closing her eyes. The pyreflies were always singing, and of course their unearthly, sorrowful cries echoed through the city alongside the stream of light that flowed overhead. But the closer they drew to the dome, the louder the song got. For a moment she swayed on her feet; their cry echoed painfully in her ears. They reverberated inside her head, not just singing the Hymn, but also chattering. A thousand voices overlapped one another, speaking to her all at once. Her head throbbed as she tried to separate them. So many whispers… but she picked out one that sounded strangely familiar.
'Rikku. Hey, Rikku! You're taking too long.'
"-ikku? Rikku!"
Disoriented, Rikku opened her eyes with a jolt and looked left and right in search of Tidus's familiar mop of blond hair. She zeroed in on Auron, whose was clutching her close to his chest. "Huh?"
When did that happen?
"… We thought you might be having another seizure." His dark eyes traced her face, worried and solemn. "Is it Bahamut?"
Shivering, she noticed that the others were staring at her too.
Just how long was I out?
"No… I mean, I don't think so. But I traveled through the Farplane to get here, and well… this place does have lots of pyreflies." She placed a hand on her Garment Grid uncertainly, shivering when she realized Lenne's sphere was warm. "Maybe stopping this far in isn't a great idea."
"Then let's continue," Braska urged. He looked so
tired, but at least he seemed to have come back into his own body. This time, he led them forward. When he crested the top of the path, he let out a low breath. Climbing over the broken concrete next to him, Rikku stopped and grimaced at the stadium's sudden proximity.
"This… is our destiny," Braska said. He didn't allow himself to gawk, instead taking the lead down towards the final Temple at a quick pace.
"'Ey, wait up!" Jecht slid after Braska, jogging to catch up to him.
Rikku stood there, fists clenched, and tried to clamp down on the dread the sight of the dome brought to her. She felt Auron climb up behind her.
"You haven't told us everything yet," he said softly. "What else can there possibly be?"
"Oh, you know… Yevon's Temple is always full of surprises." She let out a tiny, uncontrollable laugh. "Though I bet my stupid open sphere playback of a brain is going to tell you before I can come up with a solution to them."
He shuddered. "And what if there is no solution? What are you going to do?"
She grabbed onto his arm and squeezed it so tightly she might have hurt him without his gauntlet. "Improvise," she said with false bravado. Jecht and Braska were still jogging away from them. "Geez, for being such slowpokes, you'd think someone lit a fire under their butts now. We better catch up. C'mon." She took off at a run, pulling Auron along behind her.
They rejoined Braska and Jecht in the wide courtyard full of rubble before the crumbling entrance to the stadium. There was a figure emerging from the interior of the archway, and Auron swore under his breath, pulling his sword and preparing to sprint.
"No no, wait! This one is friendly. Sort of," she mumbled, watching as the elderly priest dressed in ancient robes approached Braska.
"Journeyer of the long road, name yourself," he called out.
Braska straightened, but didn't bow. "I am the summoner Braska," he said clearly. "I have journeyed from the city of Bevelle to obtain the Final Aeon. Are you in need of a Sending, sir?"
The old man chuckled. "Not quite, my lord. I serve the Lady Yunalesca, and thus, all Summoners who call upon her here. Well then, show me your eyes. Let me see the long road you have traveled." He crept closer to Braska and Auron tensed, his hand tightening around the hilt of his sword.
The priest did nothing, however, other than stare intently into Braska's eyes. After a moment, he leaned back, stroking his beard. "Yes… a gaze more worthy than most. The road you have traveled has shaped you into what you are now. Go to the Lady. She will surely welcome your arrival. Go, and bring your Guardians with you." Smiling, he folded his hands behind his back and walked past Braska, his body fading and scattering into pyreflies as he passed them.
"Creepy," Jecht said, staring at the spot where the priest had been. Then he looked inside the stadium. "But that's creepier. It looks more like a corpse more than an arena, if y'ask me." He stepped inside after Braska, who hadn't bothered to wait for them.
"Why is he in such a hurry to die?" Auron stood there, hanging back and staring after them.
Gently, Rikku prodded his back. "We can't leave him, y'know."
"I know."
They entered together, and Rikku stopped when she saw older memories taking form for Braska and Jecht. Before her, a familiar scene played out. She looked to the corner, seeing the hint of her younger self cowering on the ground. From his soft intake of breath, Auron had spotted her too. She glanced at him, and was surprised. Behind him, the memory of his older self stood. She hadn't seen it back then; she'd been scared witless by the memories the dome summoned. Now, though, she saw that Auron had been watching her then, his face hidden by his collar but his brows drawn low in consternation. After a moment, the memory-Auron grimaced and spun away, putting his back to her younger self's fearful shudders.
Jecht and Braska didn't notice any of that, though. They were enraptured by a much brighter, louder memory playing before them.
"If it might benefit the future of Spira, I would gladly give my life. It is the highest honor for which a Guardian might ask. Use my life, Lady Yocun, and rid Spira of Sin."
"Was that… Lady Yocun herself?" Braska breathed while the image of the two women faded.
Jecht crossed his arms again, a pensive scowl on his face. "Sounded like that was her Guardian to me."
Rikku was actually thankful for the movement she spotted behind them; it kept her from having to offer any explanations about the vision they'd experienced. "Get down!" she hissed, pushing Auron back against the pillar. Jecht reacted to her warning instantly, grabbing Braska and pulling the summoner low alongside him.
Loud, heavy clunks filled the air as an ancient machina - a Zanarkand Defender, nearly the same size as her Marauder – lumbered by in the distance. Its singular yellow eye glowed eerily in the half-light of the dome, and its armor, while rusted, still looked functional enough to be problematic, if not deadly.
"This place has more residents than just the fiends and ghosts," she whispered hastily. "Some of the ancient war machina is still active! You have to be careful. Sneaky-like!"
Braska watched it retreat at a snail's pace. "Or fast," he replied, standing up and brushing his robes off. "At the rate it is moving, I think we could outrun it." He surveyed the group. "What do you say? Are you ready?"
Rikku shook her head wildly. "No! No, I'm very not ready!"
Auron looked exasperated as he adjusted the blade on his back, preparing for a run. At his side, Jecht was already stretching and leaning over to touch his toes.
"Does it matter?" Auron said gruffly when he finished. "You're going to do as you please regardless."
Braska grinned, tipping his head. "Of course." He glanced over his shoulder to make sure the Defender had retreated completely. "Make haste!"
The sprint through the ruins was nothing short of madness; it was dark in the dome. The drop to the ground if they lost their footing was far enough to break bones or drown, depending on where they fell. The terrain was rough and uncertain, being little more than the crumbling remains of the machina that powered the former sphere pool. At least, being the fastest, she was able to pull ahead of the rest of them and guide them down the safest path through the ruin.
Plus, it provided her with the benefit of blasting right through the memory of Seymour's traumatic childhood as he confronted his dying mother without having to see it play out before her again. She crossed her arms before her and barreled through kid-Seymour the moment he opened his mouth. Keeping up a quick pace forced the others to follow her so they couldn't watch. Still, the memories continued their play behind them, trapped in time.
"There is no other way. Use me, and defeat Sin. Only then will people accept you."
She heard Braska stumble when he heard the familiar voice, and Auron's curse as he picked the other man up. He'd obviously recognized Anima's human avatar once again.
"Rikku, was that—?" he asked. She heard Auron and Jecht struggling to move him as Seymour continued to sob and protest hopelessly.
"I don't have much time left."
"Lemmie go first," Jecht demanded, shouldering his way past a frozen Braska and chasing after her. "We're gonna lose Blondie. Auron, make sure he don't fall!"
"No time to waste. Let's go!" Auron growled with urgency as the unmistakable sound of the Defender's clunky footsteps sounded, drawn by the noise they were making.
Everyone ran like their lives depended on it – which it possibly did, Rikku thought grimly as she took out a few more Unsent monks waiting for them at the platform leading to the inner sanctum. "Hide," she hissed, and the boys scattered, each making themselves scarce behind what rubble they could find as the Defender made another appearance, trudging towards the doorway.
It came dangerously close, jerking unsteadily and sweeping the platform with its machine gun for intruders. It continued to pace back and forth across the platform for several minutes, scanning menacingly for a target. Her legs were going numb; something needed to be done before one of them gave themselves away. When it turned its back to her, Rikku leaned out and tossed a frag grenade as far as she could into the open ruins, then ducked back down and covered her ears. The explosion made dust and silt shift and fall inside the dome, and the Defender's screeching siren of warning pierced the air. It turned and stomped back down the path with unexpected speed.
They all scrambled to their feet. This time, though, it wasn't Auron who held back when Braska tried to step through the archway into the dome's depths.
"Hey, Braska…" Jecht stared at his toes. He spared a glance at Rikku and Auron, then sighed and looked up at Braska. "You don't have to do this."
Braska paused mid-step but didn't turn to face them. "Thank you for your concern." It was clear from the tone of his voice that he wasn't going to stop.
Scowling, Jecht kicked at the ground angrily. "Fine! I said my peace."
"Well I haven't!" Auron jumped past her, vibrating with anger. "Lord Braska. Let us go back! I don't want to see you
die!" His voice almost broke.
Braska's shoulders rose slightly. "You knew this would happen, my friend."
"Yes, but I-" Auron stared at ground, his jaw working. "I cannot accept it!" His head shot up when Braska responded with a soft laugh and finally looked at Auron.
"Auron, I'm honored that you care for me so. But I have come to kill grief itself."
Auron flinched; Braska might as well have been talking about himself. He still looked tired, Rikku realized, and older than ever. Braska's features were perpetually youthful, a gift he'd passed straight on to Yuna with her baby-face. But now she could see his age settling around his shoulders like a mantle. The blazing blue of his eyes was muted in the darkness of the Temple, and the smudges on his face below them enhanced by the lengthening shadows. It wasn't so much his appearance that had changed, but rather the vitality that he'd left behind somewhere at the campsite, next to the memory of his grown daughter.
He looked so fragile as a hint of the affection he held for Auron broke through; of the bond they'd created over those lost years spent together after Bikanel, being punished by the Church while trying to raise Yuna as outcasts. It was a fleeting look of wistful longing for a life that had slipped through his fingers in his refusal to move beyond his own grief.
She realized abruptly how simple Braska's desire really was: he wanted to be the half of another's whole. He'd loved Raenn with all his heart, but when she had died his all-consuming love had left him broken. But how could a man who'd defined himself by his importance to another not have noticed how Auron idolized him over all those years?
He'd fallen in love with Auron, too.
It was in that smile, of a scar long healed, that she saw it. Auron had never understood; as devoutly orthodox as he'd been raised, he could never return Braska's voracious love. She wondered if Braska had ever even told him. Auron saw himself first as a vassal, and then as a friend, but never as a soulmate; no matter how much he cared for the other man, he didn't share the same intense, passionate, all-consuming desire that Braska did.
Braska had tried to swallow her in that same desire as well when he'd fallen apart in Baaj; he'd wanted to become her meaning for her existence in this past time; to be her anchor, so she could be his. Unwilling to betray Auron, she'd turned him away as well. In the process, she'd become another wound on his heart instead.
So it wasn't just
once. Three times he'd had his heart broken;
that was his mask and his grief; the source of his desperation, and the reason for his despair.
And now that he was here and it was
too late, he finally saw the truth through her eyes and her traitorous memory: that he'd always been the recipient of complete and unquestioning love and devotion. Maybe it wasn't the sort of love he'd wanted, but it had always been right there in his arms. He'd merely been too selfish to see how Yuna, too, idolized him and patterned her life after his, right down to his death.
His regret was almost tangible; he'd ignored what he'd had while chasing after a dream that continuously fled from his grasp. And now, he was apologizing by trying to grant his daughter a different destiny from his own. He was choosing to be the one thing he could still succeed at, despite it all: a Summoner.
"Please understand, Auron."
He smiled faintly, his mask slipping back on, and turned away. His measured steps brought him further into the Temple, leaving behind an agonizing silence.
Jecht, blissfully ignorant, stopped by Auron and put a hand on his shoulder. "Look, man. We tried. C'mon." He stepped into the ruined hallway beyond, following Braska.
"No!" Auron spat out, looking up. She wondered if he'd understood what Braska had revealed in that moment of weakness; he must have sensed something, because he didn't pause to wait for her. With a haunted look, he chased after his Summoner. "Braska! Wait!"
Rikku watched them run ahead of her, her past bleeding into her future. Glancing over her shoulder, she wasn't surprised to see Tidus standing behind her. He looked just like he had all those years ago, wearing his old blitzball uniform with his arms crossed. He was translucent, just like all of the other memories, but he was watching her with an uncharacteristically solemn look. Or was he just her own memory, watching their Pilgrimage in the future? Either way, his stare bored right through her.
"I… I'm going," she whispered, nearly tripping as she backed away from him.
Tidus smiled at her faintly; it was a sad smile. The sudden lance of fear that he was
here and actually
looking at her sent her spinning and scrambling for Auron. She was abruptly afraid that the three men would be gone, lost to the dome as nothing more than memories. Her fear abated when she saw that they'd stopped before a large, ornate door decorated with the Church's tell-tale symbolic script, and were having a completely ordinary conversation.
"Are the trials ahead?" Jecht asked, crossing his arms.
"Probably," Braska answered, straightening up from one of the ancient signs he'd been inspecting before the stairwell.
"Here too, huh? Gimmie a break!" Jecht sagged over, looking disgusted. "I was expecting, y'know. Parades! And fireworks!"
"You can ask for them after I defeat Sin," Braska replied, sounding amused as he climbed down the steps.
"Really?" Auron asked Jecht sourly. "
Parades?"
Jecht shrugged. "What? I figure it's the least they could do, considerin' that we're gonna beat Sin, right?" He skipped down the steps after Braska. "'Ey B! Wait up!"
"Is this a game to them?" Auron grit out. He glared at Rikku, noticing her arrival. "And where were you?"
"I got a little lost, okay?" she hedged defensively.
His answering look was one of pure disbelief. He took one glance down the short hallway, which was a straight shot to the ruins outside, and then back at her, an eyebrow rising.
"Where?"
Rikku glanced over her shoulder for any sign of Tidus; thankfully, there was nothing but pyreflies and crumbling stone behind her. "Look, I'm not
that bad at directions, okay? I just… I have a lot more memories here than you guys do. It's hard to move forward. Or… backward? I don't know anymore!" she wailed, grabbing her head. "It's confusing! I hated this place the first time, and it's only gotten worse now!"
Auron softened at her breakdown, reaching out to grasp her arm and guide her closer to his side. "Then stay with me." He gave her a brief, pained smile. "I can't lose everyone down here, can I?"
Arm in arm, they made their way down the steps. It opened into the familiar front room of the Trial; Braska and Jecht were watching an ancient sphere screen flicker to life.
"—even more machina," Braska was saying. "Perhaps the more ancient the temple, the more advanced—"
"Shh, somethin's happenin'!" Jecht shushed him.
The buzz of static faded, and several different blocks of color formed into puzzle-like shapes on the screen. Auron and Rikku joined them as they waited, but nothing else happened.
"So what's this all supposed to be?" Jecht asked, stepping onto the path. Immediately, a low, musical chime rang through the room while the small segment of the floor lit up beneath his feet. "Whoa!" Jumping, he landed a few floor tiles away and set off another, deeper chime. "… Huh, so the floor's like a big piano or somethin'?" Grinning, he dragged his feet across the entirety of tiled floor, filling the room with discordant chimes and a headache-inducing light show at irregular intervals.
"Will you stop prancing around like that?" Auron said sourly as Rikku covered her ears. "You don't even know what you might be doing to the cloister!"
"Well someone's gotta find out, right? Ain't that what we Guardians are here to do?" Defiantly, he stuck his foot out and brought it down on another tile – then let out a loud yelp as he saw a monkey watching him intently.
"Get it away!" he screamed, making an impressive leap straight off the tiled floor and back onto the platform they'd entered from. He grabbed the ends of his hair defensively. "The hell is one o' them devil-monkeys doin' down here?!"
"I don't think it's real," Rikku giggled, covering her mouth. Her smile turned into a wince as the pyreflies picked up on her memories.
Paine reappeared, striding past Jecht with a pained look.
"I can't believe we're chasing lovesick monkeys."
Shivering, Rikku saw a ghostly image of herself follow and stop directly next to Auron, dancing in place.
"Aww! Can't you see it's true love?"
The two girls chased after the translucent monkey that had scared Jecht, fading out of sight.
Rikku scratched her chin. "Sorry, Jecht. The monkeys moved in during my time. Hey, at least they were more fun than the Trial?"
"Says you," Jecht grumbled, sticking his foot out to stomp on one of the musical tiles petulantly.
"Stop," Braska said suddenly, raising his hand.
"What? Everyone's a critic!" Jecht complained, throwing his hands into the air.
"No…" Braska blinked and frowned. "I mean, I believe I know what I must do. Please, all of you, step aside."
Rikku hid her smile. Yunie'd figured it out pretty quickly back then, too. They cleared the floor for Braska, who carefully stepped his way around the chiming tiles in solemn, measured footsteps. He held his staff loosely in one hand, arms at his side. Then, with a deep breath, he lifted the staff and swung it in a low arc around himself.
Everyone knew Braska's dance. He'd performed it far too many times not to know.
The staff swung high and Braska reversed his spin gracefully, twirling the staff in a practiced motion. He leapt forward, and a chime sounded as his foot struck another tile.
Auron stilled. "The Sending," he said quietly through another chime ringing, slowly piecing together the Hymn.
Rikku felt herself still as the power of Braska's dance flowed through the room, releasing the pyreflies from their entrapment in the dome. But it was only a temporary reprieve; Braska could've danced endlessly in that chamber and still hardly make a dent in the thousands of souls who were trapped in Zanarkand's ruins.
"… The King's Gambit," she said softly. "The answer was always what the Fayth asked their Summoners for. They want to stop dreaming."
The floor lit up in a soft white light when Braska finished his dance. The absolute silence of the Sending's cleansing faded and the pyreflies slowly crowded back in, refilling the room with their ever-present hum.
They watched as the walls shook and panels lifted, exposing sphere pillars that slid out onto the floor. At the back of the room, another door slid open, revealing another passage into the depths of the Temple.
Almost everyone joined Braska in the center of the room; Auron, however, chose to go right by them with his sword out, passing through the new doorway.
"So we all go that way then?" Jecht asked, making to follow Auron through.
"Not yet," Rikku said with a sigh, walking up to a pillar. "Look. Do you recognize this?" Leaning in, she shoved the pillar back with a grunt. It slid easily enough, and when it hit the alcove it had been hidden in, a symbol sparked to life above it.
Braska leaned in to look, then nodded. "I see. It is the symbol of Kilika." He paused, eyeing the pillars. "Then each of those must represent one of the Temples of Yevon."
Auron came back into the room. "It's clear," he said gruffly. "But you did something, didn't you? There's another sphere screen. It turned on when I entered. The floor is similar, too."
"Hell yeah! I haven't watched a real screen in ages!" Jecht took off for the other room at a run. He'd already planted himself by the sphere screen in the next room by the time the rest of them entered, and was inspecting the image on the display. "'Ey! This looks like that Kilika thing, too."
"Then I believe I know the answer to this riddle as well. I will simply need to dance— oh," Braska stopped and surveyed the new room, his eyes drawn to the enormous pit in the center. "That… might make it a bit more difficult."
"It's too dangerous," Auron said, gesturing at the hole. "Just tell us the movements of your dance and we can activate the tiles for you."
"No. This, of all Trials, I have to complete on my own. Wait here."
And so, standing precariously close to the pit in the middle of the room, Braska began to perform the Summoning for Ifrit. It had been a long time since Rikku had seen him bother to dance to summon an aeon; he'd long since abandoned the practice in favor of efficiency. This time he wasn't channeling the power of the aeons; he was just moving his feet over the floor in practiced steps, recreating the movement to set off the charmed floor tiles in the proper order.
It was still beautiful to watch. Just like Yuna, he'd always put his heart into each of the dances he performed. Several times Auron reached out and stilled a warning as the sweeping turns brought Braska uncomfortably close to falling over the edge. But Braska's movements never slowed in the slightest. He wasn't even looking; he was dancing with his eyes closed, letting his belief in the Fayth carry him.
Eventually he came to a stop, and one of the hexagonal tiles around the pit began to glow softly with the symbol of Kilika's temple. Opening his eyes, he smiled and then looked up at Rikku. "If you would do the honors?"
"You sure don't want to rest?" she asked, stalling for time.
"Quite sure." He returned to his starting position, holding his staff out and waiting expectantly.
Sighing, Rikku ducked back into the other room to activate another pillar. When she came back, Braska had already begun dancing again, recognizing the symbol on the screen. Auron was blocking her view, so she moved to his side to watch the graceful whirl of staff and robes as Braska circled around the room.
A soft noise made her glance over, and then she bit her lip. Auron was watching, too. His face was too pale, and his lips were pressed and white. He'd stifled a hoarse murmur of distress, but his face still radiated agony. Apart from that small, singular noise, held his suffering in check, his eyes tracking Braska's movements. Rikku looked back at Braska and realized what he already had: this would be the last time they would ever watch him perform those dances.
It struck her more sharply than any weapon, and left her with tears in her eyes.
Time stretched on as they watched Braska in silence, but for the noise of pyreflies and the swish of his robes. After every dance he would take only a brief moment to ensure that the corresponding symbol lit up on the floor, before gesturing at Rikku to continue. By the second dance, his brow was beaded in sweat; by the fourth, he looked ready to collapse. He kept going, though, five dances for the five official Temples of Yevon.
His only break was when he stood before the final challenge, staring in consternation at the sixth hexagonal tile that lay dormant.
"Are you sure you don't wanna stop?" Rikku asked, shifting nervously from side to side.
Braska carefully stepped towards the center of the floor again, looking exhausted. "There are only five sanctioned Temples of Yevon currently in existence. And there are only five dances that are taught to all Summoners. But there is one that still officially exists in our public records. I believe I know which Temple this final challenge is meant to represent." He looked up at Rikku searchingly. "Are you asking me to rest for my sake, or yours?"
Rikku bit her lip. "Why not both?"
He looked away from her in shame, and she ducked her head. "Yeah… you guessed it right. Just hold on a sec," she mumbled, brushing past a bemused Auron to activate the last pillar. When she came back, everyone was looking at the strange symbol that had appeared on the screen.
"I never seen that one before," Jecht said. "You know which Temple it is, B?"
"Indeed," Braska replied, watching Rikku instead.
"It's Baaj," she said quietly to Auron. He looked down at her, and then back to Braska, frowning. Rikku stepped in front of him and met Braska's gaze. "You never danced for her before," she pointed out.
"I expect this one must be created from my heart, then," Braska replied. "Or can you help me?" he asked wryly.
Auron expelled a slow breath beside her and held himself very still. He only relaxed when she reached out and grabbed his hand.
"Maybe," she answered. "Baaj did have a dance. But it was always a little different from the others. I guess even before it got destroyed, Baaj was always a temple dedicated to destruction." She thought of Anima and Yuna's fraught connection to Seymour. "It was the same for Yunie." Closing her eyes, she forced herself to remember the first Pilgrimage; how Yuna had stood in the same place Braska had, clutching her staff to her chest, pale-faced and reluctant.
Braska let out an audible gasp, but Rikku didn't have to look; she had her memories. She knew exactly what the rest of them were seeing: Yuna sweeping around the room, spinning and weaving between the tiles in the chaotic pattern than formed Anima's summoning call.
Still, she opened her eyes and watched Yuna's translucent form gracefully moving through the room. Braska followed his daughter, intently focused. His steps were sure; wherever Yuna walked, he was right behind her. Rikku was reminded of the dance she'd shared with him in the Cavern of the Stolen Fayth; this time, though, there was no discordance in the pattern, no bumbling first attempts. Somehow, she knew he wouldn't get this dance wrong. This time,
he was the one who trailed after his daughter, following in her footsteps to chase the only connection he could still have with her.
When it was over, the chimes sounded, and the final symbol lit around the pit. The room thrummed with power.
"… Uh, is somethin' supposed to happen?" Jecht asked after a minute. He turned to look at the screen, but it had shorted and was showing only static. "'Cause right now we got a big fat nothin' goin' on here."
Braska frowned, pacing slowly around the now-glowing pit. "Clearly, we have activated at least some part of this cloister successfully. But how do we advance?"
"Perhaps we don't." Auron stepped forward. "It could end here." He sounded hopeful.
"But it won't." Braska stared at Rikku. "I've managed to bring us this far. Now, show us the rest of the way." His voice was soft, but it was clear that he wasn't asking… this was a command.
At his side, Auron matched Braska's stare towards her and shook his head slightly.
The pyreflies surrounding her made the ethereal voice in her head almost real.
You'll have to choose what you love more in the end.
"Don't," Auron pleaded with her softly, his eyes burning. "Don't choose this."
"You will," Braska said with a knowing look. His eyes told her the truth.
You love Yuna, too. You love her and your future more than you love me… or Auron.
Helplessly, Rikku looked between the two of them. "I don't want to do this," she said in a small voice, hunching over. A shrill whistle made her look up.
"Game's on. But this is your call, Blondie," Jecht told her, crossing his arms and waiting.
That was what shocked her out of her paralysis, in the end. Jecht, standing between the two demands of her heart and waiting patiently, as he always had, for her to decide on her own. Maybe, considering who and what he was, he was the best positioned to know just how important it was to be
able to choose.
It's not just about Yuna and the future of Spira, she realized. It was also about Jecht and Tidus, and their ability to escape the dream. She thought of Tidus' sad smile, and she knew what she had to do.
She took small steps at first, moving beyond Auron and Braska, and then past Jecht, all the way to the flickering sphere screen. Reaching out, she removed the two unobtrusive spheres quietly powering the cloister. The room buzzed and then fell into near-total darkness, surprising the others.
Rikku was glad; that way, she couldn't see either Auron or Braska's faces as she slunk back into the other room and slotted the spheres into the last two remaining pillars with a sense of dread.
The answering rumble of the cloister unlocking and ancient machina being set into motion filled her with terror.
There's no turning back now.
In the meantime, enjoy the artwork!
