Post by Auron on Jul 26, 2024 16:38:02 GMT -6
Auron
"This is your story. It all begins here."
I. BASICS
FULL NAME:: Auron
NICKNAMES:: Sir Auron, The Legendary Guardian
GENDER:: Male
AGE:: """35"""
ORIENTATION:: Demi-homosexual
GAME OF ORIGIN:: FFX
ALIGNMENT:: Neutral
EQUIPMENT:: Broadsword (the Masamune), bracers, a jug of personal liqour thusly named Nog.
NICKNAMES:: Sir Auron, The Legendary Guardian
GENDER:: Male
AGE:: """35"""
ORIENTATION:: Demi-homosexual
GAME OF ORIGIN:: FFX
ALIGNMENT:: Neutral
EQUIPMENT:: Broadsword (the Masamune), bracers, a jug of personal liqour thusly named Nog.
HEIGHT:: 6’0”
HAIR/EYES/SKIN:: Black with gray streaks/Amber/Tanned
DISTINGUISHING MARKS:: Large scar over the right eye
II. PERSONA
From a distance, Auron appears to be a standoff-ish, quiet, intimidating man that only speaks when necessary. With half of his face covered with a high collar, one eye permanently shut, and sunglasses to hide the other, it can be difficult at any given moment to have an idea of what he could be thinking or feeling. He typically never has the first word, choosing instead to always have the last with plenty of time to mull over a response. It will always fall on another to be the first to break the ice, so to speak, as Auron will almost never be the one to start a conversation.
That is not to say that he isn’t friendly. Auron is a polite man, always willing to address those who deserve it with respect. He is not afraid to apologize when he is incorrect or when he unintentionally offends someone or hurts them. He is a thoughtful man, however he keeps that close to his chest. To a stranger he may be stiff, but he is generally never crass or rude unless he feels someone deserves it. His dry wit, however, is typically reserved for those he deems worthy of receiving it.
Even with those he is quite close to, Auron tends to withhold affection and thoughtful gestures for an opportune time. In his eyes, there is a time and place for everything, and some things – good or bad – are better left said in a private moment. He will freely give praise to his friends when it is deserved, but Auron is also unafraid to tell them when they are at fault. However, he does so generally with advice on the back end of that on how to improve. He does have a sense of humor, desert dry as it is, and does enjoy quipping to his friends and watching their delayed responses as they turn over his words in their minds. He’s a difficult one to catch off guard or embarrass these days, but in his younger years he was more easily offended and had a shell that was fun to break through (for some).
Auron walks a fine line between gentle and harsh at times; rough around the edges. He is generally calm and gentle to the young, trying more to guide them, but his patience has its limits. When it runs out, Auron’s quips suddenly turn more harsh, his tone harder and more commanding. However, no matter how exasperated he may become, he tends to bend to the will of his companions. That is, unless true danger was lying ahead.
His circle of trusted friends and allies is small, but that is due to Auron’s extreme loyalty and devotion. Anyone would be hard pressed to find a more dutiful friend and ally than the former-monk. He is an excellent mentor, guiding those he cares for to grow into their best selves. For any of his dear friends, Auron would walk to the end of the world and back, he would face the mightiest foe – whatever needs to be done for them, he will do without question and without hesitation.
No matter the ask from his friends, if Auron promises to do something, he most certainly will. Even if the odds seem impossible, he will do what he can to fulfill a request, and accept the burdens placed on him with dignity and honor. A promise, to Auron, is more than just words but something binding and powerful. Though he doesn’t expect the same intensity from others, he will always carry that himself for his friends.
This intense sense of duty doesn’t come without its faults, of course. Hidden beneath his quiet exterior is a man of extreme passion. He will defend those he cares about intensely, respect be damned and customs/traditions be damned harder. Sometimes, this leads Auron to make mistakes as he reacts instead of keeping a level head and thinking things through. He is unafraid to bear his soul to those closest to him, sharing the intensity of his feelings, whether they be joy or sorrow. Righteous anger can burn intensely, but must be saved for the right moment – like most things. Auron tries to keep his true feelings about most anything hidden until the right time comes.
Auron, having lived a hard life (including a hard life after death), tends to be more cynical than the average person. If something sounds too good to be true, it most definitely is. Happiness is extremely hard to find, and joy hard won. He has difficulty looking toward the future with hope at times, filled with regrets and self-blame. Auron is sometimes trapped in the past, regrets locked around his ankles like shackles, shoulders heavy with bad memories. He considers his past mistakes sins that are impossible to atone for, and would struggle to even accept forgiveness were it possible. To him, there is nothing worse than having failed his friends and though the good outweighs the bad, he has a hard time seeing through the fog of self depreciation and doubt.
Overall – Auron is a good, decent man with a level head on his shoulders and many years of experience tackling life’s greatest challenges. Though quiet and somewhat intimidating, he is not as standoffish as he appears, finding himself comfortable and happy among his friends and those he cares deeply for. While he is somewhat fatherly with some, he is also still stern and unafraid to lead others to the lessons they need to learn; painful or not. Locked behind his stoic exterior is a passionate soul, reckless at times and loyal to a fault. He would do anything for a dear friend, no matter how impossible the ask, and would throw away anything and everything in order to keep them safe and happy.
Now world weary, Auron seeks peace once more – having had it ripped from his grasp yet again.
That is not to say that he isn’t friendly. Auron is a polite man, always willing to address those who deserve it with respect. He is not afraid to apologize when he is incorrect or when he unintentionally offends someone or hurts them. He is a thoughtful man, however he keeps that close to his chest. To a stranger he may be stiff, but he is generally never crass or rude unless he feels someone deserves it. His dry wit, however, is typically reserved for those he deems worthy of receiving it.
Even with those he is quite close to, Auron tends to withhold affection and thoughtful gestures for an opportune time. In his eyes, there is a time and place for everything, and some things – good or bad – are better left said in a private moment. He will freely give praise to his friends when it is deserved, but Auron is also unafraid to tell them when they are at fault. However, he does so generally with advice on the back end of that on how to improve. He does have a sense of humor, desert dry as it is, and does enjoy quipping to his friends and watching their delayed responses as they turn over his words in their minds. He’s a difficult one to catch off guard or embarrass these days, but in his younger years he was more easily offended and had a shell that was fun to break through (for some).
Auron walks a fine line between gentle and harsh at times; rough around the edges. He is generally calm and gentle to the young, trying more to guide them, but his patience has its limits. When it runs out, Auron’s quips suddenly turn more harsh, his tone harder and more commanding. However, no matter how exasperated he may become, he tends to bend to the will of his companions. That is, unless true danger was lying ahead.
His circle of trusted friends and allies is small, but that is due to Auron’s extreme loyalty and devotion. Anyone would be hard pressed to find a more dutiful friend and ally than the former-monk. He is an excellent mentor, guiding those he cares for to grow into their best selves. For any of his dear friends, Auron would walk to the end of the world and back, he would face the mightiest foe – whatever needs to be done for them, he will do without question and without hesitation.
No matter the ask from his friends, if Auron promises to do something, he most certainly will. Even if the odds seem impossible, he will do what he can to fulfill a request, and accept the burdens placed on him with dignity and honor. A promise, to Auron, is more than just words but something binding and powerful. Though he doesn’t expect the same intensity from others, he will always carry that himself for his friends.
This intense sense of duty doesn’t come without its faults, of course. Hidden beneath his quiet exterior is a man of extreme passion. He will defend those he cares about intensely, respect be damned and customs/traditions be damned harder. Sometimes, this leads Auron to make mistakes as he reacts instead of keeping a level head and thinking things through. He is unafraid to bear his soul to those closest to him, sharing the intensity of his feelings, whether they be joy or sorrow. Righteous anger can burn intensely, but must be saved for the right moment – like most things. Auron tries to keep his true feelings about most anything hidden until the right time comes.
Auron, having lived a hard life (including a hard life after death), tends to be more cynical than the average person. If something sounds too good to be true, it most definitely is. Happiness is extremely hard to find, and joy hard won. He has difficulty looking toward the future with hope at times, filled with regrets and self-blame. Auron is sometimes trapped in the past, regrets locked around his ankles like shackles, shoulders heavy with bad memories. He considers his past mistakes sins that are impossible to atone for, and would struggle to even accept forgiveness were it possible. To him, there is nothing worse than having failed his friends and though the good outweighs the bad, he has a hard time seeing through the fog of self depreciation and doubt.
Overall – Auron is a good, decent man with a level head on his shoulders and many years of experience tackling life’s greatest challenges. Though quiet and somewhat intimidating, he is not as standoffish as he appears, finding himself comfortable and happy among his friends and those he cares deeply for. While he is somewhat fatherly with some, he is also still stern and unafraid to lead others to the lessons they need to learn; painful or not. Locked behind his stoic exterior is a passionate soul, reckless at times and loyal to a fault. He would do anything for a dear friend, no matter how impossible the ask, and would throw away anything and everything in order to keep them safe and happy.
Now world weary, Auron seeks peace once more – having had it ripped from his grasp yet again.
III. HISTORY
Auron carefully watched the group as they began to rest, one by one. He had waved off their attempts to have him rest, and slowly the younger members of the group went to their respective rocky outcroppings at the bottom of Mt. Gagazet to try and sleep before dawn came. As the deep night came, only himself and Kimahri were left before the embers of the bonfire.
Auron didn’t have to say a word to the trustworthy Ronso when he rose and turned to walk away from the meager camp. He’d been disappearing off and on during the pilgrimage and Kimahri, ever loyal, had never said a word.
Well, he’d never said a word about many things.
Auron departed the campsite quietly, following a familiar path that was all too easy to find. There, he came upon another area that would have made an excellent campsite, hidden amongst the tall rocks. With only the moon to light his path, his boots came to a halt before a circle of rocks that had once housed a fire.
He sat down in a spot he had once before, staring at the empty circle. It was easy enough to picture the fire that had once roared there. Auron looked to his left – where there was now empty space, a dear friend had once sat. He didn’t have to concentrate at all to hear the laughter of three men in front of the fire, telling stories, enjoying each other’s company on a long journey that was soon to come to an end.
Auron’s chest ached. During Braska’s pilgrimage, it took him so long to open up to his companions – Jecht in particular. It wasn’t until they had reached this destination that he had finally given in to the blitzball star’s demands to finally know more about the man he was traveling with.
Laughter shook his body as Jecht finished another story that had sent him and Braska into stitches. Months ago, Auron would never have believed that he would be sitting next to the raving drunkard they’d picked up in Bevelle’s jail, having the time of his life simply listening to the man. How quickly things could change when people got to knowing each other better, when they became brothers in arms, when they helped each other change and become who they were always supposed to be.
There were no vices present this night. The entertainment was pure – no alcohol, no tobacco; various things they had left behind. Aside from some sweets Braska had managed to procure.
“Alright monklet,” Jecht’s voice was raspy as always, clearly done telling his embarrassing tale of childhood, “You finally gonna tell us anything about you growin’ up?”
Two sets of eyes were on him; Jecht’s, full of glorious fire and Braska’s, overflowing with pure joy.
“I … suppose,” Auron started awkwardly, eyes turning to the bonfire, “But it’s no entertaining tale, like you and Braska have.”
They egged him on despite this, and the monk found himself unable to resist Braska’s kind smile.
“I was born in Bevelle, or so the monks told me. Born into poverty, I was turned into the monastery very young, as many children were when their parents were unable to care for them.”
Auron only watched the fire, as to not see the faces of his companions.
“I’m sure others with more freedom would find my childhood sad, but … I enjoyed my time with the monks – my brothers. I learned everything from them. Cooking, cleaning, washing, handy skills; the monks do all of the upkeep of the temples and sacred buildings, they help the poor and destitute, it … was a lot. All young children feel the need to rebel against a rigorous schedule, but such a thing helped shape me into who I am now. Up at sunrise, morning prayer, chores, afternoon service – you understand.”
At his side, he fumbled with the rosary attached to his hip with his right hand. This journey had changed his views of their religion, of Yevon, but it was a difficult internal battle. For one such as him, indoctrinated in the ways of the church practically since birth, it was hard to resist going through all the familiar motions that had once brought him peace.
“Myself and a few of my brothers wished to become Warrior Monks. We trained and trained. It was exhausting to accomplish between our other chores, but we knew we had the potential. It was not long before my friend and I stood out.”
The fire dancing before him reminded Auron of how his spirit felt in those days. Blazing, strong, victorious. He knew he was on the path he was destined for and would become a great warrior for Yevon and the people.
“I rose through the ranks, but then …”.
For a moment, his blood turned ice cold. It thawed quickly, boiling with a righteous fury. Auron grit his teeth, not to show his companions how angry he truly was to recall the memory.
“My Lord already knows this. I was asked to take a priest’s daughter’s hand in marriage. A girl I had never spoken more than a few words to. I refused to do so. I did not love her, it would have been nothing but a sham – but that is exactly what they wanted. It was then the veil was removed from my eyes and I saw that the church was filled with nepotism and men more concerned about status than truly serving Yevon. I voluntarily left the monastery after that.”
Next to him Jecht whistled low, “Sounds like something you’d see on a drama.”
“I told you it was no entertaining story,” Auron countered with a snort.
Across from them Braska hummed thoughtfully, “While that story may not fill us with laughter, it does fill me with warmth. The temple turned away the most virtuous and loyal man it could have possibly had in its halls, and yet such a man would join me on my pilgrimage. It has been an honor, Auron.”
“My Lord..,” Auron ducked his head down, swallowing the hard lump in his throat, threading his fingers together with anxious energy.
“Enough with the sap,” Jecht interjected suddenly, and Auron came face to face with the man’s sharp-toothed smirk, “You gotta have a funny story in there to share, yeah? Then we’ll gang up on Braska to get something embarrassing out of him again.”
In another time, Auron would have told Jecht to simply shut up. Or that he didn’t deserve such attention. He would have admonished him for not using Braska’s title and daring to insult him.
Instead, his eyes wide as he thought, the words were tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them, “I accidentally left the chocobo gate open one evening. They broke loose and absolutely devoured half the vegetables at the market, but no one noticed the damage until morning. It took us days to track them all down, and one knocked the head monk into a fountain.”
Roaring laughter filled the night air once more as Auron relived such an embarrassing memory. Yet, instead of blushing in shame, for the first time he found himself laughing along.
Auron was a careful man with his memories. He considered this as he sat at that desolate, empty campsite, lost in his thoughts. He once kept everything close, so close until it broke him. These days, he saw the advantages of keeping a record, however ridiculous it may seem at times. When he, Braska, and Jecht originally were recording memories on their pilgrimage, Auron found himself behind the sphere more times than not, enjoying capturing moments of the other two for them to leave behind for their loved ones to discover.
He didn’t have anyone to leave anything behind for. At least, he didn’t believe he did back then.
It was after their venture that he came to begin recording things in one way or another. Even if he didn’t have anyone to leave these things to, perhaps they would help another traveler some day, aid a stranger, or …
Well, no. He did not want to consider that, if they failed their mission to finally eradicate Sin, the spheres he left behind may be necessary to help the next generation’s attempt.
Ever since his return to Spira, he had been leaving them behind in secret. Planted in locations they had stopped at, with the intent that someone would discover them someday and they could be of some use.
Much like he, Braska, and Jecht had done once before.
The sphere had been a gift from Braska to Jecht, who was fascinated by the device. Auron rolled his eyes when it first made an appearance; bristling with annoyance when Braska requested he stand close to Jecht.
This wasn’t to be some vacation. It was an important journey, sacred and somber. He would not deny Lord Braska anything, but the drunkard the lord insisted come with them …
Auron had been so incredibly honored when Braska asked him to be his Guardian. It was the honor of a lifetime, holy and pure, something the ex-Monk thought beyond his reach after he left the monastery. He could still taste the surprise and disappointment when Braska insisted that the mad man that raved of Zanarkand, drank to excess and dressed immodestly were to join them.
It would be something to see if they were the three to defeat Sin. Unlikely heroes. A delightful irony Braska had called it.
But Jecht…
“What’s the matter, afraid I might bite?”
“Jecht …,” Auron grit out the name of the man he’d rather have abandoned in the snow.
There was no way he would be a useful addition to their pilgrimage. He was sure to only slow them down and cause them trouble.
Right?
—
Their journey had taken them to many places. Despite his appearance and attitude, Jecht had proven himself to be a half decent warrior at least, capable of protecting Braska. Auron was able to relax, if slightly, that the entire venture hadn’t gone awry. He tried not to let Jecht’s ridiculous ways color his entire view of the pilgrimage. After all, it was the first time Auron had traveled so far from Bevelle.
The world of Spira was as breathtaking as it was heartbreaking.
The trip had been long, and the longer they all spent in each other’s company, the more Auron felt the harsh edges of himself being worn away. He didn’t want to admit that he found himself caring about what happened to Jecht, but slowly, the stinging barbs came less from his mouth as he instead found himself trying to establish a shaky friendship.
The passage to Besaid could be nerve wracking, but Yevon had blessed them with calm waters that day. The sky was a never ending blue, dotted with white clouds. Auron watched the horizon with Braska, talking quietly over what they would do when they came upon the village, when Jecht had interrupted asking about their venture. Braska was honest – that their venture would eventually lead them to Mt. Gagazet, and then to Zanarkand.
By this point, Jecht had been told dozens of times that Zanarkand lie in ruin for a thousand years. He mentioned it, and Auron saw clearly for the first time the sadness in the blitz star’s eyes.
“So they say. It could still be your Zanarkand,” he tried to reassure Jecht – to give him some kind of hope. Despite their differences, the man deserved that much. He had a wife and child he’d been torn away from, a full life taken away.
“Thanks for trying Auron,” came the downtrodden reply, and Auron hung his head with a frown.
The sphere ended up in Auron’s hand in Besaid. He was focused on trying to take in the scenery himself, belatedly remembering that he was recording and moving accordingly when the others stepped in the view of the sphere. It was a tiny village, a handful of huts with a simple but beautiful temple at the edge of the cliffside.
Jecht continued forward without them, and Braska suddenly called out his name.
“My lord?”
“When this is all over … could you bring Yuna here? I want her to lead a life far away from this conflict.”
Emotion swelled in Auron’s chest, like nothing he ever felt before. Braska’s request touched him to his very soul. He could not imagine what the summoner felt in that moment, knowing what sacrifice was coming at the end of their venture for the sake of his young daughter. Auron had no children to consider – if he died during the pilgrimage protecting Braska, there were only a handful of people that would even remember his name.
“You have my word. I will bring her here,” Auron promised sincerely, and his heart felt as though it might burst.
The moment was interrupted by Jecht, insisting he was starving and that they needed to get a move on.
Luca had been a mighty sight to behold, and finally, they were able to help Jecht feel a little more at home. With Spira’s only blitzball stadium, the supposed champion had finally been able to show off his skills – insisting that Auron capture it all on the sphere, of course.
At the port on their way to leave, Auron had clicked the sphere to record without even thinking about it, focused on a bird preening its feathers. Sometimes, it was nice just to watch something natural and peaceful. His ears were still ringing from the stadium.
Auron turned as Jecht asked if he’d recorded the match. The ex-Monk nodded, but admitted he wasn’t sure why he had to record the whole thing. Braska joined in the conversation, jokingly asking if Jecht was working on his form. Auron raised an eyebrow as Jecht claimed his form was perfect (he would certainly disagree) and that the video was for his son. The way he spoke about his son seemed like he only cared about making the poor boy follow in his footsteps, his words somewhat harsh.
However, as Auron moved past the boxes on the pier, sphere still in his hand, he captured Jecht in his hidden, emotional state.
As Jecht demanded he stop recording, Auron only gave him a short noise through his nose, but stopped the sphere.
The Mi’ihen Highroad was long, but had been mostly quiet for their venture. Braska and Jecht had been making conversation as they walked along, but it was Auron that finally noticed what felt so strange about the place.
“The chocobos… My Lord, have you seen any?”
There hadn’t been a single yellow feather seen. It wasn’t until they happened upon the rest area that they found the reason – a mighty beast known as the Chocobo Eater. Jecht insisted they find and defeat this monster, saying it was the right thing to do. Another reason for them to get into some trouble.
Not that Auron would have argued that point. He too wanted to help bring peace to the people, and the chocobos, of the area.
Auron pulled out the sphere as they searched for the beast, having a sneaking suspicion that Jecht was sure to do something ridiculous. Sure enough, he started screaming to the winds for the beast to show itself – as if that would attract it.
“I told you this was a waste of time,” Auron countered. The beast was attracted to chocobos, not the shouting of a washed up blitzball star.
“It’s the right thing to do. Everyone’s depending on us! Besides, it’s good practice.”
Auron couldn’t help but laugh at that. Good practice for what? “I guess you’re right.”
Then, as if to save Jecht’s dignity, the roar of the beast came. Auron dropped the sphere, his hand immediately coming to his sword as he rushed toward the source of the noise with Jecht – the recording forgotten.
The moonflow was beautiful. Auron had always heard it described in such ways, but the words of a book or the stories of old men could not compare to seeing it in person. Unfortunately, their time there had been marked by an intense source of frustration. Jecht had gotten drunk, and in his intoxicated state, he mistook a shoopuf for an enemy and attacked it. Braska had to pay for the damages and Auron, intensely angry, had to babysit Jecht through his hangover.
He’d seen the man get drunk a few times during their venture, but this was a beast of another color. Jecht had completely lost himself. It was shameful, abhorrent. What was worse still, the only alcohol that had been available was Auron’s own – a sweet liquor distilled by the monks of Bevelle. Jecht had taken it without his permission.
Auron knew what it was like to have a vice. He was guilty of sneaking off to smoke when under intense stress – a bad habit he picked up from other boys at the monastery. But he had given that up for this pilgrimage.
Whatever demons Jecht was fighting for his own vice must have been powerful.
Things were calmer later that afternoon. Braska was staring out at the Moonflow, seemingly lost in thought, and Auron’s righteous anger had burned down to a simmer. He wasn’t sure why he picked up the sphere at first, turning it toward Braska to simply capture that peaceful moment, but as he walked, Jecht came into the sphere’s focus as well – curled up on the ground, clearly still recovering from what had happened.
A thought crossed Auron’s mind. Perhaps the reason Jecht could never fully fight his vice was that he never had to relive it. Auron knew well that men did not remember things clearly when they were drunk. He wasn’t so innocent that he’d never drank to excess himself. He couldn’t go back and record the actual incident, to show Jecht just how stupid he had been, but he could record the aftermath.
Jecht was clearly upset when Auron approached with the sphere.
“Why are you recording me?”
“So you don’t do anything stupid again,” Auron answered bluntly, glaring from behind the sphere, “I can’t believe you attacked that shoopuf. Lord Braska had to pay the handler for the damages, from his own travel money.”
There. Now it was recorded for all time, and he could play it back to Jecht as many times as he needed to.
“I said I was sorry. It’s never gonna happen again! I promise!”
Auron snorted. As if he hadn’t heard that same thing from the drunks of Bevelle when they showed up at the temple, begging Yevon for forgiveness of the sins they had committed while they drank. And then they showed up, again and again, asking for the same forgiveness each time without a lesson learned.
“Ah, a promise?” Auron asked, narrowing his eyes, “Which you’ll forget, come tomorrow!”
Braska tried to interject and diffuse the situation. Too forgiving, too kind.
However, it seemed to spur something in Jecht. He rose to his feet, claiming that he would only drink shoopuf milk from now on. That he had to stop screwing up, he had to focus on fighting Sin and saving Spira, or his wife and son would never forgive him.
Auron smirked, having gotten exactly the kind of declaration he was hoping, “That’s on the record.”
The Thunder Plains were certainly mighty. A never ending storm, with lightning that shot from the sky in angry, powerful shots, obliterating the earth underneath it.
Again, Jecht asked Auron to record him on the sphere. For posterity, he said. Auron rolled his eyes at the request, getting one short video of nothing in particular as he looked around. Jecht complained for him to turn it back on and Auron obliged him, but was instead distracted by Braska’s gaze – looking far into the distance.
Curious, Auron asked what he saw, but the summoner replied simply that he was thinking. Auron hardly paid any mind to Jecht, who was running around like a fool in the background.
That was, until a huge crack of thunder and a jolt of lightning shook the very earth under their feet.
Auron quickly turned the sphere to Jecht, but found a pillar in the way. He moved around it, capturing Jecht as he sat on the ground, looking around dazed and confused.
Realizing he’d been struck by the lightning, Auron let out a laugh, “Now THERE’S a scene for posterity!”
Jecht, dejected and knowing his misfortune had been captured, shook his head, “yeah, yeah.”
Auron couldn’t help but laugh.
He found himself laughing more and harder than he had in his entire life.
When dawn broke, it would be time to climb Mt. Gagazet. Auron could hardly bring himself to look at the intimidating cliff. Once they crossed the threshold, the worst times of his life were sure to come flowing back to him. He had seen it himself after all – the strong memories of those that came before them, playing out in front of them. If he did not control himself, then … would his own memories appear before him? Would they play out for all to see?
Is that what needed to happen?
Auron grit his teeth, glancing away from the cliff toward the stars. Light had not yet begun to dull their brightness.
He relived that hellish nightmare all the time, whether he wanted to or not. His decisions in Zanarkand plagued his thoughts constantly. They woke him, screaming, from his poor attempts at rest when he least expected it. Nothing had ever chased them away – no amount of meditation, no liquor, nothing could make them fade. The ghosts of his past, his very regrets, clung to his rotten core.
Perhaps, if he let them play out before his mind now he would be able to focus in Zanarkand. The pyreflies would perhaps take pity on him.
Auron unscrewed the top of his jug, taking in the scent of the familiar sweet liquor before he took a long drink from it. It left a burning trail from his tongue to his belly, but even if he were to drink the entire container, it would never burn away the pain.
—
It was the hardest part of the journey; physically, emotionally, and mentally.
Auron and Braska, and now even Jecht, knew well what reaching Zanarkand meant. What would happen once they did. Auron couldn’t help but let his gaze follow Braska’s every movement, and with each step they took, the ability to resist reaching out and grabbing his sleeve became harder and harder to resist. With the truth now spoken, with Jecht now knowing what Braska’s sacrifice was to be, the man from a different Zanarkand said his piece.
And the dam broke, releasing Auron’s previous resolve in a rushing, crashing and violent sorrow.
“Lord Braska, let us go back! I don’t want to see you … die!” the words left him, and for the first time, Auron did not even attempt to grab them before they did. He felt his voice wavering, his throat constricting.
He thought he was prepared for this. He had known, since the beginning, the summoner was meant to sacrifice his life to bring peace to Spira.
But that was before their journey. That was before they had become so close. Before Auron had made the two closest friends he ever had, before he let them into his very heart and soul. It was before his resolve and faith in Yevon had been shaken bit by bit during the journey, where his daily prayers ceased as they no longer brought him comfort. Before he laughed and smiled so much, before he made such amazing memories he would carry for the rest of his days.
Before, the thought of Braska giving his life to defeat Sin had been somber, but honorable.
Now, it was unbearable.
“You knew this was to happen, my friend,” Braska reminded him gently. It did nothing to soothe the great wave of anguish in Auron’s soul.
“Yes but I…,” Auron trailed off, gaze turning to the stone ground, “I cannot accept it.”
His voice suddenly felt so small, so weak. Like a child’s.
But Braska was so much stronger than him. His resolve stood strong against the insistent begging of his friends. He would not so easily give up on his mission, and asked that Auron understand.
Auron said nothing in reply, his head low.
—
They continued onward. The trials awaited and Jecht complained loudly about the lack of luster around them. Whether he did so to lighten the gloomy air or it was a legitimate complaint, Auron couldn’t say.
He couldn’t bear to look either of them in the eye. Instead, he followed behind his two friends. Ever onward.
While Auron sought the words to convince his friends once more to stop and turn back, Jecht began to ask him something. Perhaps too eager to be distracted from his racing thoughts, Auron forced Jecht to speak what was on his mind. What he wasn’t expecting was the most shocking request one could receive.
Jecht knew he would never go back to Zanarkand. This was the end of the line. And somehow, someway, he wanted – no he needed – Auron to find a way to Zanarkand and watch over his son.
Somehow, despite everything, Auron was able to accept. Fervently. He didn’t want Jecht to have to worry about what would happen to his son. He swore to find him, to watch over him, to protect him with his life. And he meant every word, as if saying it with enough resolve would make it come to fruition right in that moment.
Jecht laughed and approached him, calling him a stiff.
The hug they shared was brief.
—
One never knew what was fact and fiction, when it came to the tales of those who had fought and defeated Sin. After all, they had never returned – their lives sacrificed to bring about a temporary Calm to the world.
It had been unbelievable already to see the lady Yunalesca. For a moment, but only a moment, Auron was caught in awe rather than in terror and sorrow of what was to come. For that brief second, his previous devotion to Yevon roared proudly in his chest. All those years of his life, spent praying and working and devoting life and limb to those beliefs were not in vain.
Then at her words, it all … came crumbling down. And Auron felt as though he had been pierced through his very heart.
Was it not enough that Braska had to sacrifice his life? But now, one of their lives had to be given as well to become his Final Aeon? The Final Aeon that would kill him? All for a temporary peace?
The scream was caught in his throat.
Beyond them lay the final chamber. One of them would become the fayth, and thus Braska’s Final Aeon.
“It’s not too late – let us turn back!” Auron pleaded with his friends. With every passing second, every passing breath, the inevitable moment shifted closer. He just needed to find the right words, the right insistence, to get them to listen.
“If I turn back, who will defeat Sin?” Braska’s resolve was unshakable, his voice strong, “Would you have some other summoner and his guardians go through this?”
Auron wanted to pull his hair out. Of course he didn’t want that either.
“But … my lord, there must be another way!”
There had to be. There had to be something else that could be done, to stop this madness. There had to be a different answer, something they weren’t seeing. Another path, another option.
Auron’s eyes were wide and frantic as he turned to Jecht, who he expected would agree with him.
“This is the only way we got now,” came Jecht’s words, and Auron felt as though he couldn’t breathe. An icy feeling sank into his gut as his hands trembled. There was a buzzing in his ears as Jecht continued, having come to terms with the fact that he would never make it home, he would never see his son again and he would never see his dream come true.
Jecht resolved to fight Sin with Braska.
“Don’t do this Jecht!” Auron urged, finding his voice once again as he pleaded with his friends, “If you live … there may be another way! We’ll think of something, I know!”
How many problems had they solved on their travels together? How much had they overcome together? As long as the three of them stayed by each other’s sides, they could figure anything out, overcome any obstacle, conquer any problem – he was sure of it!
But why … why couldn’t they see that?
Braska and Jecht had their resolve. They would bring down Sin.
They … wouldn’t listen to him.
“Lord Braska! Jecht!”
“What do you want now?” Jecht asked him, impatient.
Auron swallowed, his mouth dry and his heart pounding, “Sin always comes back. It comes back after the Calm every time! The cycle will continue and your deaths will mean nothing!”
Surely they saw that. They had to have had the same thought – especially Braska. He had lived it, he had seen it. For a thousand years Sin always came back, no matter what legendary summoner went to destroy it.
Braska was not deterred, “But there’s always a chance it won’t come back this time. It’s worth trying.”
Auron wanted to scream – are you listening to yourself? But Jecht spoke up before he could, insisting that he would break the cycle. As if he had some sort of master plan in his back pocket. His confident laughter echoed off the stone walls, laughter that had once instilled Auron with a variety of emotions; annoyance, amusement, even joy.
Now it brought nothing but emptiness.
Jecht and Braska disappeared beyond the door.
Auron fell to his knees.
And he wept.
—
By the time Braska emerged from the chamber, Auron’s tears had run their course. His heart lurched as he saw that the summoner was alone; Jecht no longer at his side. Braska was solemn as he passed and Auron followed him, without a word.
Whatever happened in the chamber, he truly did not want to know.
The journey back through Zanarkand was solemn. The two men did not exchange many words; Auron was exhausted, worn, and filled with regret. He did as he promised, protecting Braska back down the formidable mountain, and it was only battling the fiends that kept his mind from straying too far.
There was no longer any sense in opening his mouth. No more reason to argue.
Jecht was already gone.
Braska needed to regain his strength before the final battle, as the trials in Zanarkand had taken their toll on him physically. They camped where they had before at the foot of the mountain in near silence. Auron remained awake to keep watch over the night – unable to sleep even if he wanted. As he stared into the embers of the fire, he let his thoughts roam freely.
If Jecht was the Fayth, if Auron prayed to him, could he hear it?
The battle with Sin occurred the next day. Auron had to remain a ways away, to not get caught up in the clash. He watched from the foot of Mt. Gagazet as Braska brought forth the Final Aeon. As something that resembled Jecht appeared to fight Sin. The battle was terrifying to behold, and Braska’s aeon managed to pierce through Sin and fell the beast.
Braksa’s death cry could be heard even from that distance.
Jecht, the Final Aeon, vanished into pyreflies – destined to become the next Sin.
Auron wasn’t sure how long he sat at the bottom of the mountain, stunned into stillness and silence. He couldn’t say what he felt or what he did, prior to rising and making his way back up the mountain. He moved as if he was a man possessed, and with each step his fury grew. The sword on his back felt heavy, but his heart felt heavier.
He made his way back through the ruined city, and by the time he reached her once more, Auron knew what he needed to do.
When he laid eyes on Yunalesca, the words he’d been holding back came flowing freely.
“Where is the sense in all this?” Auron swung his sword before her, gritting his teeth as he yelled, “Braska believed in Yevon’s teachings and died for them!”
A piece of Auron’s heart cracked. Followed by another.
“Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!”
Auron steadied his blade as he stared down the ghost of Yunelesca – the one who revealed this madness to them in the first place. She stood perfectly still, as if he weren’t there at all as she addressed him, “They chose to die … because they had hope.”
A battle cry ripped through Auron’s throat. He rushed at Yunalesca with every fiber of righteous fury his body could possibly contain. He would kill her, he would tear everything down – this monstrous, useless ritual that she perpetuated. He would avenge the souls of his friends, who died only to continue this cycle of death and pain.
But his strike did not land.
An indescribable pain ripped across Auron’s body as he was thrown back, his blade no longer in his hands. Stunned he lay on the ground processing what had happened. When he finally managed to lift his head, Yunalesca was gone.
And nothing looked right.
His cry of pain was weak, with hardly any breath in his lungs with which to scream. His right hand, shaking, reached to touch his face. His eye, he couldn’t see…
Auron weakly pushed himself up, hissing as his skin and bone protested. Underneath of him blood dripped freely, pooling on the stone ground. He pressed a hand to his haori, trying to stem the flow.
Everything that came after was … a blur. Auron didn’t recall most of his trip down Mt. Gagazet, dragging himself along with nothing but the will of his promises to keep him moving. His feet were heavy, so heavy. Each inhale burned. His steps stumbled, hands shaking. Somehow, he got the words out to rent a room at the Travel Agency, brushing off the inquisitive Al Bhed that ran it. Curatives could not fix what had been done to him.
It was Yuna that he thought of. Braska’s little girl, who needed to go to Besaid. She was waiting for them back in Bevelle. Home.
Rest did not make things any better, but it gave Auron the last bit of strength he needed to continue onwards. Whether he passed others, he couldn’t say. Everything around him was beginning to blur the further he went along. By the time he reached the outskirts of Bevelle, Auron could no longer stand on his feet – having resorted to dragging himself along the ground.
He was dying.
Auron cursed himself, for having immediately failed Braska’s final request of him. Barely, he perceived the footsteps of another and reached out to the blur. Auron blinked his vision clear best he could, seeing a Ronso before him.
“Please,” he begged, his voice broken and weak, “Will you … listen … to a last request?”
The Ronso knelt down before him.
Auron pulled another shaky breath, sure to be one of his last, “I’m one of … Lord Braska’s guardians. His … daughter Yuna… I promised to take her to Besaid…”.
The world temporarily spun and went black, but Auron hissed and forced it back into focus.
“Please … find her and … take her to Besaid … She deserves a … peaceful life…”.
Auron tried to take another breath, but it refused to enter his lungs. When the world slowly faded this time, it did not come back. Numbness spread, as if he no longer had a body with which to feel. The last thing he heard was footsteps, moving away.
At least he could keep his promise to Braska in one way. But Jecht … he had failed Jecht, hadn’t he? To find a way to Zanarkand and watch over his boy.
Those feelings of deep shame and regret were all he could feel. Everything else went cold, then numb, and completely vanished.
—
But that wasn’t the end, was it?
Auron had fallen back on the stone ground, eye trained to the stars as they moved overhead. For most people, it would have been the final chapter of their story. But he had been too loyal, too determined, too angry to die. With a promise still to fulfill, his story continued on – as a blasphemous being, an Unsent.
Being dead had its advantages. He was able to move swiftly away from Bevelle and back to the shores of the Calm Lands, where the husk of Sin awaited him.
What Yunalesca had said was true – Sin would return once it was reconstructed. And where would a Sin, with Jecht at its core, make its home until that day came?
Zanarkand.
Even if it was a hopelessly foolish plan, Auron would think of something else. He channeled Jecht’s brash overconfidence and latched onto the terrifying being as it left the shore to rebuilt itself anew in the sea.
And so, Auron washed up in the Zanarkand he’d heard so much about, much in the way Jecht had come upon the shores of Spira.
In his effects was a small book; personal and filled to the brim with writing.
A recording of his time in Spira.
I’m not sure why I am bothering to write anything. You’ll never read this.
I’m lying to myself and saying that it is to better get used to this new hand-eye coordination.
Did you see me, when I climbed upon Sin? I swore I could hear you, telling me that my new scar was not as “cool” as all of yours.
I’ve made it to Zanarkand. Your home is somehow more gaudy than I could even imagine. Though, most of this land is beyond my understanding. Is there a single thing in Zanarkand that is not machina?
Your wife and son are safe. Your wife was very distressed when I gave her the news that you would not be returning and that you sent me in your stead to look after the boy. She has not come out of her room.
Your son hasn’t said much. He said he was happy you’re gone, but there was a lack of conviction in his words. Nothing but an emotional outburst from a child.
Tidus hasn’t cried yet. Were you lying to me, about how much he cries?
A healer – doctor, whatever they’re called here, came for your wife. He says she is very sick. That she will pass soon if things do not improve.
I admit I am very concerned. I have not been here long. If she were to die, I would not know what to do for Tidus. He is very worried about her. For him to lose you both so suddenly … I can only imagine what he is feeling.
Your wife was laid to rest today.
I could not save her.
It has been nearly a week since his mother’s passing, and Tidus has finally decided to acknowledge my existence.
I fear it is only because I have tried and failed to cook for him. He showed me how to use the stove today. Apparently he knows how to cook some, even at this tender age. It reminds me of learning to cook at the monastery.
I am still not used to my new vision limitations. I missed placing the rice on the counter and spilled it everywhere.
You would be laughing if you could see me. I am sure of it.
Tidus is wary of me, and I do not blame him. He becomes immediately upset if I mention you. I know you mentioned wanting to be a better father, but I can’t help but wonder how you treated him before you came to Spira.
Not to worry. I will care for him.
You did not warn me about children’s birthday parties. Did you know that I am expected to provide for an entire classroom of children?
The market sells, well a vast many things, one of which being … some concoction I can use to make tiny cakes.
I have never been more intimidated by anything in my life.
If I ever see you again, I will punch you in the face for this.
Tidus is quite talented at Blitzball. I can see why your dream was to see him at the top. He works hard, but I see success getting to his head a bit already. I had to remind him that he is a child and that he needs to continue to work hard or else he will not be as good as he wishes to be.
Taking after you, I wonder?
It has been one year since I arrived in Zanarkand. It’s been over a year since you and Braska …
I wonder if the Calm is still present in Spira. How Yuna is doing.
I wonder if anyone is telling the tale of the three unlikely heroes that defeated Sin?
… If I am being honest, I hope they are not. I would rather them forget my name entirely and let me fade into obscurity. It is what I deserve.
I will never forgive myself for being unable to convince the both of you to give up that venture.
It should be you here with Tidus. Not I.
Tidus is growing into a young man now. He is all awkward limbs, changing voice, and non-stop attitude. He has always glowered at pictures of you, but now he tells me nearly every day how much he hated you and that he’s tired of seeing you everywhere.
He is still going to the tournament they hold in your honor, of course.
His words are harsh, but there has never been any real bite behind them.
Tidus is playing for the Zanarkand Abes now. He is a star. I know you would be proud of him.
He is not as tall and wide as you, but he still plays very well. I catch him studying videos of your old matches all the time.
He is as open to criticism as you were. Very resistant to it.
For a boy who claims to hate you as much as he does, he hardly realizes how much like you he is.
I am unashamedly homesick. It is a weakness I have tried to keep hidden.
Tidus was humming the Hymn of the Fayth. I was drawn to it like moth to flame.
I embarrassed him I am sure. But it reminded me of how often you would sing it on our venture.
I wonder, if you were to still hear it, would you know what you were hearing? Would you still enjoy it?
… Can you even hear us at all?
There is change in the winds. I can feel it.
Are you going to come home? To Zanarkand?
Whatever you decide to do … I will be here.
I trust you have figured out a plan, like you said you would.
It’s been ten long years. When I see you, I will tell you that you took too long. I’m sure that will get a laugh.
I will keep Tidus safe, as promised. But, I hope you will not disappoint us.
—
Auron patted his pocket, feeling the small book still there. That was something personal, that he would take to the very end of the world with him. There were only two people whose eyes could ever fall upon it – one of whom was technically already dead and the other would probably die of embarrassment rather than know that such a thing existed.
Auron snorted. He should have forced Tidus to record spheres for the journey, rather than doing it himself in secret.
How many spheres had he left behind now? Hidden in secret, hopefully never needing to be useful to another generation of people, but … Just in case.
Not as many as stars in the sky.
He would record the final one shortly. Once the climb up Mt. Gagazet started, there would be no time to sneak away and do so. If all went well, though, there would be no need for anything further.
The spheres could be lost to time.
(A sphere is turned on. Auron slowly steps into the frame, holding the sphere too close to his scarred face for a moment before putting it back down.)
“I haven’t used one of these in ten years. I assume nothing has changed.”
(Auron steps into view again, not looking directly at the sphere, but toward the sea.)
“I am unsure of exactly how much time has passed. Sin pulled Tidus and I from Zanarkand, and we were separated.”
(Auron looks down for a moment.)
“He is strong. I am sure he will find his way here quickly. A blitzball tournament will be beginning in a few days time. If he does not appear then, I will go search for him.”
“From what I have heard from those here in Luca, Sin has recently returned to Spira. I can’t say for sure what my next step is, but Sin has decided at least two people it will involve.”
(Auron sighs, looking out toward the sea. It is clearly nighttime, with a bright moon shining.)
“I am … attempting to leave a record, should something go awry. For the next generation to find. We are currently at the end of Braska’s Calm. Braska’s Final Aeon is now the new Sin, as is the fate of all Final Aeons, as told to us by Yunalesca.”
(He laughs bitterly.)
“The Temples know this is how it works. But they will not tell you that. It would discourage the next summoner from sacrificing their life.”
“I don’t quite know how yet, but I will do my best to stop this cycle. A record of this venture will be scattered across Spira. If I am so lucky, these spheres will become useless quickly.”
(Auron steps out of the frame. Footsteps are heard, and then the sphere is lifted and turned off.)
I found Tidus today. He was in Luca at the Blitzball match. Fortune smiles upon me for whatever reason, as he was traveling with Braska’s daughter Yuna.
This was certainly not what I expected, but it is not unwelcome.
Yuna has grown into a wonderful young woman, if a little naive. However, Braska would be proud to know she lived a peaceful life and only recently became a summoner, wanting to follow in his footsteps. He should have been here to see it, just as you should have been here to see Tidus.
Yuna is joined by her other guardians: Wakka, a young blitzball player and Lulu, an intimidating young woman who practices in black magic. Kimahri Ronso, the very same that found me dying outside of Bevelle accompanies her as well. He has looked after her all this time. I could not be more relieved to see this.
Tidus is upset with me, and I cannot blame him for it. He knows I have been hiding much from him. I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of Tidus believing it was MY decision to bring him to Spira. I told him immediately that you are Sin. It’s best to rip that bandage off for him now, before we continue onward.
He is having to pretend to be affected by Sin’s Toxin, just as you did.
Yuna’s other guardians have not accepted him yet, but they have allowed me to join without question.
I am known as a legendary guardian, apparently.
It sickens me.
(A sphere is clicked on. The landscape is shown; the grass and hills of the Highroads. It is dark, and the vision is limited. The sphere is set steady and Auron steps into the frame, his back to the sphere.)
“Some things never change. The Mi’ihen Highroad appears the same as it did a decade ago.”
(Auron shifts his weight from one foot to the other.)
“The Crusaders are quite active right now. Moreso than they were in my time. They are planning a large operation nearby. I can only assume it will spell tragedy.”
“Yuna now has several guardians by her side. Her goal is the same as any summoners; to reach Zanarkand and defeat Sin. She explained this to Tidus tonight.”
(Auron looks briefly at the camera, before walking out of frame.)
“Well. She cherry picked what she told him, anyway. Not that it matters. She will not be dying to defeat Sin.”
(The sphere is shut off.)
The blasted chocobo eater returned.
I haven’t laughed that hard in some time. Tidus wanted to fight it because it was the right thing to do.
It was finished off this time. No cliff necessary.
(A sphere is turned on. It is nighttime and the sphere captures the sea. Auron comes into the frame, sitting on a nearby rock and facing away from the sphere.)
“... Time changes some people for the worse. Wen Kinoc is a Maester now and spearheaded this useless operation that led to nothing but death.”
(Auron glances at something else for a moment. Pyreflies can be seen on the edges of the sphere.)
“Yuna has been sending the souls of the dead for hours. There are too many to count. Yevon, the church, Kinoc, they all knew this would happen. What was even the purpose? They believe Sin came here for its spawn they collected.”
(Auron spits on the ground.)
“He didn’t come for them. He came here for Tidus. Jecht is trying to find his son.”
(Auron turns toward the sphere for a moment, before looking back out to the sea.)
“I can only hope the Maester’s will keep their nose away from Sin for the time being, to avoid any more unnecessary death. I don’t need them constantly sniffing around Yuna. It has already led to too many awkward questions about myself.”
(Auron pushes himself up from the rock. He walks out of the frame and the footsteps come closer to the sphere.)
“Sin is Jecht, and he will not stop chasing after his son. How he has held on for this long … I don’t know. Maybe this is a part of his plan.”
(The sphere clicks off.)
Well. The very same shoopuf you attacked is alive and well, with an interesting scar to tell its story. I shared that story with Tidus. He was embarrassed on your behalf. It was rather amusing.
The mystery of the Al Bhed’s involvement with Yuna has been solved. I don’t know that all the other Guardians have realized it, but the young girl that appeared on the shore after Yuna’s kidnapping-gone-wrong is an Al Bhed. She spoke with Yuna as if she knew her. I suspect she may be Yuna’s cousin – the daughter of Braska’s wife’s brother. I will have to press Rin for information.
If he can keep his damn mouth shut about the fact that I looked like death ten years ago.
I allowed the girl, Rikku, to join as another of Yuna’s guardians. I doubt she will listen any better than the rest of them have so far.
And I thought a pilgrimage with you was difficult.
I had no clue.
(A sphere begins recording. Cracks of thunder are heard far in the background. The lighting is not great. A figure is barely seen moving in the frame.)
“I knew things were likely not to go well in Guadosalam. However, things became much worse than I feared. I knew it was likely someone there would detect me an Unsent, but for it to have been Seymour – a summoner – that could be … problematic.”
(Auron is heard exhaling, then laughing bitterly.)
“That doesn’t seem to be his top concern. He wants to wed Yuna. I have yet to figure out what he plans to get out of that. No one in a position like his does something without an ulterior motive.”
(Auron’s boots scuff against the ground.)
“For now, we have avoided disaster. I don’t forsee Yuna moving forward with this proposal, but she is – at times – as wonderfully unpredictable as her father was. But, her heart is pure, and I fear her naivety will cause issues down the line.”
(Auron chuckles again.)
“Jyscal Guado appeared outside of the Farplane. She had to Send him. She has no idea she began to Send me as well. I haven’t felt a pain like that since I died.”
(Among the distant rumbles in the background, Tidus’s voice is heard shouting Auron’s name.)
“Thanks to the children, we are stuck in this travel agency for the evening rather than moving out of the Thunder Plains. It’s much harder to sneak around without being noticed.”
“Perhaps, when we reach Macalania, this plot of “Maester” Seymour will have shown itself.”
(A hand is seen coming over the sphere. Tidus’s voice is heard closer now.)
“Geez old man, are you TRYING to get struck by lightning?”
“Hmm? I needed to get away from Rikku’s shrieking for a moment.”
“Hey, she’s the normal one for being afraid of being struck by lightning. Wait, it’s pitch black out here, are you still wearing your glasses? Let’s go inside before you trip and break a hip or something.”
“... I’m sure your uncharacteristic sassing has nothing to do with Yuna’s proposal.”
“Shut up!!”
(The sphere is fumbled around in a pocket while the conversation goes on, and is finally turned off as Auron laughs.)
Braska, I am unsure how you would feel about Yuna accepting Seymour’s proposal. It is not the kind of decision I could see you supporting. Though she has decided to say yes, her eyes are downcast and her spirit seems duller.
I want to tell her not to do it. But, she is so much like you. She is not likely to listen to me if she has made up her mind.
I feel that Tidus may be the only one to convince her otherwise.
Jecht, your boy is as stubborn and clueless as you. I was able to find one of the spheres we left behind on our original venture to show him, including a message I was unaware you had recorded. He is more conflicted about you now than he ever has been before.
I told him that you loved him, but you weren’t sure how to show it. I don’t know if he believed me or not. If he only knew how much you talked about him, all the things you wanted to show him …
It should have been you spending these last ten years with him. Not me.
(A sphere is turned on. The sun is bright and a vast desert scene is shown. Auron crouches down in front of the sphere, glancing on either side of himself.)
“A lot has happened. I don’t have much time. I need to go find Tidus.”
(He wipes sweat from his brow.)
“At the Macalania Temple, we discovered that Seymour murdered his father, Jyscal. Fatricide wasn’t my first guess of what exactly was wrong with him, but I can’t say I’m surprised. We were forced to battle him as he turned on Yuna, and he was slain. However, the Guado carried him away before he could be sent. It is likely that we will see him again in the future.”
(Auron adjusts his sunglasses, squinting as light reflects off of the sphere.)
“We ended up under the ice of Lake Macalania. Yuna’s goal for accepting the proposal was to try and convince Seymour to turn himself in. I’m relieved to hear she knew of what he had done and had a plan when she suddenly decided to accept. Though, I would not have approved of the plan.”
“We are traitors now, I’m sure.”
(Auron pulls the broadsword from his back, peering over the sphere for a moment.)
“Sin was underneath the ice as well. We could clearly hear the Hymn of the Faith.”
“... It was a song Jecht loved. Were you there to listen to it?”
(Tidus’s voice is heard in the distance. Auron curses, grabbing the sphere. For a moment all that is shown is Auron’s boots in the sand before the sphere is turned off.)
—
I haven’t had a moment to write or record anything in some time.
This Pilgrimage is much messier than ours was.
The Al Bhed city was under siege by the Guado when we arrived. You would never have seen it, I suppose. We never went there with Braska. You may have found it more familiar – filled with machina, like your Zanarkand.
We were forced to flee aboard an airship. Yuna was not there, nor was she on the ship. She had been apprehended by the Guado prior to our arrival, and that ridiculous farce of a wedding was still set. I knew we were likely to see Seymour again, but I did not think it would be so quickly.
Kinoc was there. I don’t believe you ever met him – you would have hated him. He was once an honorable monk, but power seemed to have gone straight to his head. It was difficult not to laugh when he pointed a machina weapon in my face. The very thing he once cursed as blasphemous, a short ten years ago.
Yuna was able to escape, as were we, and we met her at the Temple. However, shortly after she received Bahamut, we were arrested and sent to stand trial. I wish I could say I was surprised that no one seemed bothered by the fact that Seymour was an Unsent. When Mika revealed he was one as well, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
I knew that the church was poisoned, but for it to have spread that far?
I told Tidus the truth about Sin, that it always returns, that this land is nothing but a spiral of death. He took it about as well as you would have.
… Never in my life (afterlife) did I expect to see the Via Purifico. I only knew of it from my time as a monk. I had never seen anyone sentenced there. It’s a near inescapable maze. I’m proud that this group of Guardians figured out an escape. It was impressive, watching them work together.
Unfortunately, Seymour returned, with Kinoc’s corpse in tow. Though he was no longer the man I once knew, it still hurt to see him tossed away as if he were nothing. His betrayal to me did not erase the fact that we grew up together, that some of the happiest memories of my youth involved him.
Slaying the beast that Seymour became brought only minor relief.
We have returned to the Macalania woods for now. Yuna needed to be alone, as one could understand. She has now seen the true face of Yevon. The veil has been lifted from her eyes.
… But her Pilgrimage must continue. Though I have not been able to reveal the truth to them yet, that time will soon come.
It will not be long before we see you again, my friend. I’m sure of that. I expect you’ll be ready.
Auron blinked, having hardly noticed the change of the sky’s color, lost in thought as he lay on the hard ground. The stars were still visible but starting to fade as a deep purple and pink approached the horizon.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out the sphere he’d been recording on. He sat it on the rocks that made up the long-lost fire pit, hand lingering on its surface for a moment before he finally pressed the button to record.
“I’m unsure if I will be able to record anything else. Where the venture takes us now, things will move quickly, and I do not know what is to come.”
He sighed, looking over his shoulder as he continued to speak – exhausted, “Yevon is in disarray. I can only hope this will make it easier for us to continue onward. However, we are branded as traitors, and those among the temples and churches are to slay us on sight.”
Auron snorted.
“As if that strategy has worked so far.”
He sat still for a moment, contemplative, “We will begin to make our way up the mountain in a few short hours. Then, to Zanarkand. I … there is no plan.”
Auron rubbed his chin, glancing again to the sphere.
“What is it you told me, Jecht? I’ll figure something out. I suppose it’s my time to do that.”
Auron reached for the sphere, turning it off. He moved the rubble that sat upon the abandoned fire and placed the sphere under it, burying it. Perhaps someone would find it in the future, or it would lay abandoned for the rest of time. Either way, it was now out of his hands. Auron dusted his hands off and retrieved his blade, returning to the remains of the bonfire, careful not to wake any of the slumbering Guardians.
Figure it out.
He’d figure it out.
He had to.
As the group traveled, they came upon Kelk and his tribe of Ronso. Auron stayed at the ready, but Yuna and Kimahri were able to prove their worth and earn their approval. However, the peace was quickly cut short with the reappearance of Seymour, who slaughtered many of the Ronso. They were forced to battle with the Unsent summoner once more, but were able to dispatch him.
It was then that Tidus told the rest of the group that Sin was his father.
Despite all the things that he could have explained, Auron held back, instead urging the others to discover the secrets on their own. It would do them no good to simply hear it from him. These were all things they would need to experience.
He could only let them have glimpses of his own sad story. Telling Wakka and Tidus of his own doubts during the original Pilgrimage the closer they came to the end, and that he was nothing but a boy – much like them now. Auron wanted to change the world and make things better.
But he changed nothing.
Finishing their trek through Mt. Gagazet, they came upon Zanarkand. Such a place summoned forth all of Auron’s pain and regrets, and as they moved along, each of his previous memories came forth to haunt him – showing Yuna and the rest of the guardians what he, Braska, and Jecht suffered through, and their true fate.
Auron, angry and distraught, attempted to cut away the apparition of his memory as the younger version of him fell to his knees, having failed to convince Braska and Jecht to give up the Pilgrimage.
The party comes upon Yunalesca, and Auron allows her to say her piece and lets Yuna make her own decision. Others begin to offer to become Yuna’s fayth, but Tidus refuses to accept this option. After Tidus’s speech, Yuna decides as well that they will come up with a different plan. They follow after Yunalesca, learning the truth behind the cycle of Sin, and that Sin will never be truly eradicated.
It was at this point that Auron’s final memory played before them, showing his death at the hands of Yunalesca after Braska and Jecht’s sacrifices.When Yuna refuses the Final Aeon, Yunalesca opts to kill them to save them from suffering – as she had tried with Auron 10 years prior.
Auron rallies Yuna and the Guardians to defeat Yunalesca once and for all. She is finally destroyed, and Auron can feel nothing but the satisfaction of revenge as she fades away. As the exit the remains of the Zanarkand dome, Sin watches them for a moment before turning away.
However, a new problem presented itself – what to do next. There was no … plan for defeating Sin.
Auron pushes Tidus to think. He reminds Tidus of what they do know, and encourages him, before walking away to allow the group to come up with something.
Together, they decided that the Hymn was the key.
Traveling on Cid’s airship, the group returns to Bevelle with Yevon still in such disarray. The group is still considered traitors, but they are saved from being attacked by Shelinda – who was suddenly called to become the captain of the guard. Thanks to her, they are granted an audience with Maester Mika – who has put his faith in Yuna now that everyone else has gone from him. When Mika realizes that they refused the Final Aeon and destroyed Yunalesca, he believes Spira to be forever doomed, and willingly leaves for the Farplane. However, his parting story reveals the truth of Yu Yevon to the party.
To save face with what was left of Yevon and keep them from attacking the party, Auron lies to Shelinda that the Grand Maester still hasn’t come to see them yet. He allows Tidus and Yuna to then go and speak with the Fayth in Bevelle’s Temple, where they learn further truths about Yu Yevon.
Before they depart, they ask for Shelinda’s help in having everyone in Spira sing the Hymn of the Fayth.
The group returns to the airship, to take on Sin. The first fight it from the top of the airship, knocking off the mighty beast’s arms. The group then leaps from the airship, landing on the beast itself. There they continue to fight against parts of Sin’s armor, causing Sin to fall from the sky and crash as the party watches from the safety of the airship. However, they know that Sin will rise again quickly, and Tidus rallies them to defeat the guy inside of Sin.
Sin rose once more having sprouted wings like appendages from its head.
Auron watched, commenting to Tidus that Jecht was waiting for him.
From the top of the ship the party engaged Sin once more – until the beast swallowed them. Inside was a sea of pyreflies, beautiful, until a vision of Seymour washed over them. The ship lands and Tidus leads the group forward in search of Jecht, but they instead find Seymour first.
Because not even in the belly of Sin are you safe from Seymour, apparently.
After defeating Seymour for the final time, the party is able to travel onward, finding wreckage of Zanarkand. They were then transported to an area that resembled the Zanarkand dome – where Jecht stood waiting for them. Tidus approached his father, with Auron alongside him. Jecht commented to Auron that he was late, and as Auron regarded his friend he’d lost ten long years ago, he could only bow his head and reply an affirmative.
Father and son had a brief reunion, awkward and endearing. As Jecht spoke about nearly becoming Sin, about what they had to do, that he wouldn’t be in control, Tidus insisted it was enough. Auron and Tidus watched as Jecht walked away, an energy consuming him as he vanished – with Tidus chasing after him.
Not even Auron expected to see Braska’s Final Aeon rise from the depths as the being they would need to defeat.
A harsh battle followed as they defeated the Final Aeon, and as it vanished, Jecht reappeared in its place. Auron began to run forward to catch his friend, but Tidus was one step ahead, catching his father as Jecht was able to give his final words of encouragement to the group before vanishing into pyreflies.
With the Aeons vanquished and the final fight on the horizon, Tidus told the group that he would vanish after the fight. Together, they rushed forward to defeat Yu Yevon; which was nothing but a husk of what the ancient summoner once was.
Spira watched on as Sin was finally defeated. The fayth were finally able to stop dreaming and rest.
The dead should be allowed to rest.
As Yuna began dancing to guide the souls to the Farplane, Auron too was finally allowed to rest. He encouraged Yuna to continue sending him, as he gladly let go of his attachment to Spira, his role fulfilled – knowing the world was in good hands.
And so, the last chapter closed on the story of Auron’s life.
Or so he thought.
Perhaps, the dead never were allowed to rest after all.
Auron didn’t have to say a word to the trustworthy Ronso when he rose and turned to walk away from the meager camp. He’d been disappearing off and on during the pilgrimage and Kimahri, ever loyal, had never said a word.
Well, he’d never said a word about many things.
Auron departed the campsite quietly, following a familiar path that was all too easy to find. There, he came upon another area that would have made an excellent campsite, hidden amongst the tall rocks. With only the moon to light his path, his boots came to a halt before a circle of rocks that had once housed a fire.
He sat down in a spot he had once before, staring at the empty circle. It was easy enough to picture the fire that had once roared there. Auron looked to his left – where there was now empty space, a dear friend had once sat. He didn’t have to concentrate at all to hear the laughter of three men in front of the fire, telling stories, enjoying each other’s company on a long journey that was soon to come to an end.
Auron’s chest ached. During Braska’s pilgrimage, it took him so long to open up to his companions – Jecht in particular. It wasn’t until they had reached this destination that he had finally given in to the blitzball star’s demands to finally know more about the man he was traveling with.
—
Laughter shook his body as Jecht finished another story that had sent him and Braska into stitches. Months ago, Auron would never have believed that he would be sitting next to the raving drunkard they’d picked up in Bevelle’s jail, having the time of his life simply listening to the man. How quickly things could change when people got to knowing each other better, when they became brothers in arms, when they helped each other change and become who they were always supposed to be.
There were no vices present this night. The entertainment was pure – no alcohol, no tobacco; various things they had left behind. Aside from some sweets Braska had managed to procure.
“Alright monklet,” Jecht’s voice was raspy as always, clearly done telling his embarrassing tale of childhood, “You finally gonna tell us anything about you growin’ up?”
Two sets of eyes were on him; Jecht’s, full of glorious fire and Braska’s, overflowing with pure joy.
“I … suppose,” Auron started awkwardly, eyes turning to the bonfire, “But it’s no entertaining tale, like you and Braska have.”
They egged him on despite this, and the monk found himself unable to resist Braska’s kind smile.
“I was born in Bevelle, or so the monks told me. Born into poverty, I was turned into the monastery very young, as many children were when their parents were unable to care for them.”
Auron only watched the fire, as to not see the faces of his companions.
“I’m sure others with more freedom would find my childhood sad, but … I enjoyed my time with the monks – my brothers. I learned everything from them. Cooking, cleaning, washing, handy skills; the monks do all of the upkeep of the temples and sacred buildings, they help the poor and destitute, it … was a lot. All young children feel the need to rebel against a rigorous schedule, but such a thing helped shape me into who I am now. Up at sunrise, morning prayer, chores, afternoon service – you understand.”
At his side, he fumbled with the rosary attached to his hip with his right hand. This journey had changed his views of their religion, of Yevon, but it was a difficult internal battle. For one such as him, indoctrinated in the ways of the church practically since birth, it was hard to resist going through all the familiar motions that had once brought him peace.
“Myself and a few of my brothers wished to become Warrior Monks. We trained and trained. It was exhausting to accomplish between our other chores, but we knew we had the potential. It was not long before my friend and I stood out.”
The fire dancing before him reminded Auron of how his spirit felt in those days. Blazing, strong, victorious. He knew he was on the path he was destined for and would become a great warrior for Yevon and the people.
“I rose through the ranks, but then …”.
For a moment, his blood turned ice cold. It thawed quickly, boiling with a righteous fury. Auron grit his teeth, not to show his companions how angry he truly was to recall the memory.
“My Lord already knows this. I was asked to take a priest’s daughter’s hand in marriage. A girl I had never spoken more than a few words to. I refused to do so. I did not love her, it would have been nothing but a sham – but that is exactly what they wanted. It was then the veil was removed from my eyes and I saw that the church was filled with nepotism and men more concerned about status than truly serving Yevon. I voluntarily left the monastery after that.”
Next to him Jecht whistled low, “Sounds like something you’d see on a drama.”
“I told you it was no entertaining story,” Auron countered with a snort.
Across from them Braska hummed thoughtfully, “While that story may not fill us with laughter, it does fill me with warmth. The temple turned away the most virtuous and loyal man it could have possibly had in its halls, and yet such a man would join me on my pilgrimage. It has been an honor, Auron.”
“My Lord..,” Auron ducked his head down, swallowing the hard lump in his throat, threading his fingers together with anxious energy.
“Enough with the sap,” Jecht interjected suddenly, and Auron came face to face with the man’s sharp-toothed smirk, “You gotta have a funny story in there to share, yeah? Then we’ll gang up on Braska to get something embarrassing out of him again.”
In another time, Auron would have told Jecht to simply shut up. Or that he didn’t deserve such attention. He would have admonished him for not using Braska’s title and daring to insult him.
Instead, his eyes wide as he thought, the words were tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them, “I accidentally left the chocobo gate open one evening. They broke loose and absolutely devoured half the vegetables at the market, but no one noticed the damage until morning. It took us days to track them all down, and one knocked the head monk into a fountain.”
Roaring laughter filled the night air once more as Auron relived such an embarrassing memory. Yet, instead of blushing in shame, for the first time he found himself laughing along.
—
Auron was a careful man with his memories. He considered this as he sat at that desolate, empty campsite, lost in his thoughts. He once kept everything close, so close until it broke him. These days, he saw the advantages of keeping a record, however ridiculous it may seem at times. When he, Braska, and Jecht originally were recording memories on their pilgrimage, Auron found himself behind the sphere more times than not, enjoying capturing moments of the other two for them to leave behind for their loved ones to discover.
He didn’t have anyone to leave anything behind for. At least, he didn’t believe he did back then.
It was after their venture that he came to begin recording things in one way or another. Even if he didn’t have anyone to leave these things to, perhaps they would help another traveler some day, aid a stranger, or …
Well, no. He did not want to consider that, if they failed their mission to finally eradicate Sin, the spheres he left behind may be necessary to help the next generation’s attempt.
Ever since his return to Spira, he had been leaving them behind in secret. Planted in locations they had stopped at, with the intent that someone would discover them someday and they could be of some use.
Much like he, Braska, and Jecht had done once before.
—
The sphere had been a gift from Braska to Jecht, who was fascinated by the device. Auron rolled his eyes when it first made an appearance; bristling with annoyance when Braska requested he stand close to Jecht.
This wasn’t to be some vacation. It was an important journey, sacred and somber. He would not deny Lord Braska anything, but the drunkard the lord insisted come with them …
Auron had been so incredibly honored when Braska asked him to be his Guardian. It was the honor of a lifetime, holy and pure, something the ex-Monk thought beyond his reach after he left the monastery. He could still taste the surprise and disappointment when Braska insisted that the mad man that raved of Zanarkand, drank to excess and dressed immodestly were to join them.
It would be something to see if they were the three to defeat Sin. Unlikely heroes. A delightful irony Braska had called it.
But Jecht…
“What’s the matter, afraid I might bite?”
“Jecht …,” Auron grit out the name of the man he’d rather have abandoned in the snow.
There was no way he would be a useful addition to their pilgrimage. He was sure to only slow them down and cause them trouble.
Right?
—
Their journey had taken them to many places. Despite his appearance and attitude, Jecht had proven himself to be a half decent warrior at least, capable of protecting Braska. Auron was able to relax, if slightly, that the entire venture hadn’t gone awry. He tried not to let Jecht’s ridiculous ways color his entire view of the pilgrimage. After all, it was the first time Auron had traveled so far from Bevelle.
The world of Spira was as breathtaking as it was heartbreaking.
The trip had been long, and the longer they all spent in each other’s company, the more Auron felt the harsh edges of himself being worn away. He didn’t want to admit that he found himself caring about what happened to Jecht, but slowly, the stinging barbs came less from his mouth as he instead found himself trying to establish a shaky friendship.
The passage to Besaid could be nerve wracking, but Yevon had blessed them with calm waters that day. The sky was a never ending blue, dotted with white clouds. Auron watched the horizon with Braska, talking quietly over what they would do when they came upon the village, when Jecht had interrupted asking about their venture. Braska was honest – that their venture would eventually lead them to Mt. Gagazet, and then to Zanarkand.
By this point, Jecht had been told dozens of times that Zanarkand lie in ruin for a thousand years. He mentioned it, and Auron saw clearly for the first time the sadness in the blitz star’s eyes.
“So they say. It could still be your Zanarkand,” he tried to reassure Jecht – to give him some kind of hope. Despite their differences, the man deserved that much. He had a wife and child he’d been torn away from, a full life taken away.
“Thanks for trying Auron,” came the downtrodden reply, and Auron hung his head with a frown.
—
The sphere ended up in Auron’s hand in Besaid. He was focused on trying to take in the scenery himself, belatedly remembering that he was recording and moving accordingly when the others stepped in the view of the sphere. It was a tiny village, a handful of huts with a simple but beautiful temple at the edge of the cliffside.
Jecht continued forward without them, and Braska suddenly called out his name.
“My lord?”
“When this is all over … could you bring Yuna here? I want her to lead a life far away from this conflict.”
Emotion swelled in Auron’s chest, like nothing he ever felt before. Braska’s request touched him to his very soul. He could not imagine what the summoner felt in that moment, knowing what sacrifice was coming at the end of their venture for the sake of his young daughter. Auron had no children to consider – if he died during the pilgrimage protecting Braska, there were only a handful of people that would even remember his name.
“You have my word. I will bring her here,” Auron promised sincerely, and his heart felt as though it might burst.
The moment was interrupted by Jecht, insisting he was starving and that they needed to get a move on.
—
Luca had been a mighty sight to behold, and finally, they were able to help Jecht feel a little more at home. With Spira’s only blitzball stadium, the supposed champion had finally been able to show off his skills – insisting that Auron capture it all on the sphere, of course.
At the port on their way to leave, Auron had clicked the sphere to record without even thinking about it, focused on a bird preening its feathers. Sometimes, it was nice just to watch something natural and peaceful. His ears were still ringing from the stadium.
Auron turned as Jecht asked if he’d recorded the match. The ex-Monk nodded, but admitted he wasn’t sure why he had to record the whole thing. Braska joined in the conversation, jokingly asking if Jecht was working on his form. Auron raised an eyebrow as Jecht claimed his form was perfect (he would certainly disagree) and that the video was for his son. The way he spoke about his son seemed like he only cared about making the poor boy follow in his footsteps, his words somewhat harsh.
However, as Auron moved past the boxes on the pier, sphere still in his hand, he captured Jecht in his hidden, emotional state.
As Jecht demanded he stop recording, Auron only gave him a short noise through his nose, but stopped the sphere.
—
The Mi’ihen Highroad was long, but had been mostly quiet for their venture. Braska and Jecht had been making conversation as they walked along, but it was Auron that finally noticed what felt so strange about the place.
“The chocobos… My Lord, have you seen any?”
There hadn’t been a single yellow feather seen. It wasn’t until they happened upon the rest area that they found the reason – a mighty beast known as the Chocobo Eater. Jecht insisted they find and defeat this monster, saying it was the right thing to do. Another reason for them to get into some trouble.
Not that Auron would have argued that point. He too wanted to help bring peace to the people, and the chocobos, of the area.
Auron pulled out the sphere as they searched for the beast, having a sneaking suspicion that Jecht was sure to do something ridiculous. Sure enough, he started screaming to the winds for the beast to show itself – as if that would attract it.
“I told you this was a waste of time,” Auron countered. The beast was attracted to chocobos, not the shouting of a washed up blitzball star.
“It’s the right thing to do. Everyone’s depending on us! Besides, it’s good practice.”
Auron couldn’t help but laugh at that. Good practice for what? “I guess you’re right.”
Then, as if to save Jecht’s dignity, the roar of the beast came. Auron dropped the sphere, his hand immediately coming to his sword as he rushed toward the source of the noise with Jecht – the recording forgotten.
—
The moonflow was beautiful. Auron had always heard it described in such ways, but the words of a book or the stories of old men could not compare to seeing it in person. Unfortunately, their time there had been marked by an intense source of frustration. Jecht had gotten drunk, and in his intoxicated state, he mistook a shoopuf for an enemy and attacked it. Braska had to pay for the damages and Auron, intensely angry, had to babysit Jecht through his hangover.
He’d seen the man get drunk a few times during their venture, but this was a beast of another color. Jecht had completely lost himself. It was shameful, abhorrent. What was worse still, the only alcohol that had been available was Auron’s own – a sweet liquor distilled by the monks of Bevelle. Jecht had taken it without his permission.
Auron knew what it was like to have a vice. He was guilty of sneaking off to smoke when under intense stress – a bad habit he picked up from other boys at the monastery. But he had given that up for this pilgrimage.
Whatever demons Jecht was fighting for his own vice must have been powerful.
Things were calmer later that afternoon. Braska was staring out at the Moonflow, seemingly lost in thought, and Auron’s righteous anger had burned down to a simmer. He wasn’t sure why he picked up the sphere at first, turning it toward Braska to simply capture that peaceful moment, but as he walked, Jecht came into the sphere’s focus as well – curled up on the ground, clearly still recovering from what had happened.
A thought crossed Auron’s mind. Perhaps the reason Jecht could never fully fight his vice was that he never had to relive it. Auron knew well that men did not remember things clearly when they were drunk. He wasn’t so innocent that he’d never drank to excess himself. He couldn’t go back and record the actual incident, to show Jecht just how stupid he had been, but he could record the aftermath.
Jecht was clearly upset when Auron approached with the sphere.
“Why are you recording me?”
“So you don’t do anything stupid again,” Auron answered bluntly, glaring from behind the sphere, “I can’t believe you attacked that shoopuf. Lord Braska had to pay the handler for the damages, from his own travel money.”
There. Now it was recorded for all time, and he could play it back to Jecht as many times as he needed to.
“I said I was sorry. It’s never gonna happen again! I promise!”
Auron snorted. As if he hadn’t heard that same thing from the drunks of Bevelle when they showed up at the temple, begging Yevon for forgiveness of the sins they had committed while they drank. And then they showed up, again and again, asking for the same forgiveness each time without a lesson learned.
“Ah, a promise?” Auron asked, narrowing his eyes, “Which you’ll forget, come tomorrow!”
Braska tried to interject and diffuse the situation. Too forgiving, too kind.
However, it seemed to spur something in Jecht. He rose to his feet, claiming that he would only drink shoopuf milk from now on. That he had to stop screwing up, he had to focus on fighting Sin and saving Spira, or his wife and son would never forgive him.
Auron smirked, having gotten exactly the kind of declaration he was hoping, “That’s on the record.”
—
The Thunder Plains were certainly mighty. A never ending storm, with lightning that shot from the sky in angry, powerful shots, obliterating the earth underneath it.
Again, Jecht asked Auron to record him on the sphere. For posterity, he said. Auron rolled his eyes at the request, getting one short video of nothing in particular as he looked around. Jecht complained for him to turn it back on and Auron obliged him, but was instead distracted by Braska’s gaze – looking far into the distance.
Curious, Auron asked what he saw, but the summoner replied simply that he was thinking. Auron hardly paid any mind to Jecht, who was running around like a fool in the background.
That was, until a huge crack of thunder and a jolt of lightning shook the very earth under their feet.
Auron quickly turned the sphere to Jecht, but found a pillar in the way. He moved around it, capturing Jecht as he sat on the ground, looking around dazed and confused.
Realizing he’d been struck by the lightning, Auron let out a laugh, “Now THERE’S a scene for posterity!”
Jecht, dejected and knowing his misfortune had been captured, shook his head, “yeah, yeah.”
Auron couldn’t help but laugh.
He found himself laughing more and harder than he had in his entire life.
—
When dawn broke, it would be time to climb Mt. Gagazet. Auron could hardly bring himself to look at the intimidating cliff. Once they crossed the threshold, the worst times of his life were sure to come flowing back to him. He had seen it himself after all – the strong memories of those that came before them, playing out in front of them. If he did not control himself, then … would his own memories appear before him? Would they play out for all to see?
Is that what needed to happen?
Auron grit his teeth, glancing away from the cliff toward the stars. Light had not yet begun to dull their brightness.
He relived that hellish nightmare all the time, whether he wanted to or not. His decisions in Zanarkand plagued his thoughts constantly. They woke him, screaming, from his poor attempts at rest when he least expected it. Nothing had ever chased them away – no amount of meditation, no liquor, nothing could make them fade. The ghosts of his past, his very regrets, clung to his rotten core.
Perhaps, if he let them play out before his mind now he would be able to focus in Zanarkand. The pyreflies would perhaps take pity on him.
Auron unscrewed the top of his jug, taking in the scent of the familiar sweet liquor before he took a long drink from it. It left a burning trail from his tongue to his belly, but even if he were to drink the entire container, it would never burn away the pain.
—
It was the hardest part of the journey; physically, emotionally, and mentally.
Auron and Braska, and now even Jecht, knew well what reaching Zanarkand meant. What would happen once they did. Auron couldn’t help but let his gaze follow Braska’s every movement, and with each step they took, the ability to resist reaching out and grabbing his sleeve became harder and harder to resist. With the truth now spoken, with Jecht now knowing what Braska’s sacrifice was to be, the man from a different Zanarkand said his piece.
And the dam broke, releasing Auron’s previous resolve in a rushing, crashing and violent sorrow.
“Lord Braska, let us go back! I don’t want to see you … die!” the words left him, and for the first time, Auron did not even attempt to grab them before they did. He felt his voice wavering, his throat constricting.
He thought he was prepared for this. He had known, since the beginning, the summoner was meant to sacrifice his life to bring peace to Spira.
But that was before their journey. That was before they had become so close. Before Auron had made the two closest friends he ever had, before he let them into his very heart and soul. It was before his resolve and faith in Yevon had been shaken bit by bit during the journey, where his daily prayers ceased as they no longer brought him comfort. Before he laughed and smiled so much, before he made such amazing memories he would carry for the rest of his days.
Before, the thought of Braska giving his life to defeat Sin had been somber, but honorable.
Now, it was unbearable.
“You knew this was to happen, my friend,” Braska reminded him gently. It did nothing to soothe the great wave of anguish in Auron’s soul.
“Yes but I…,” Auron trailed off, gaze turning to the stone ground, “I cannot accept it.”
His voice suddenly felt so small, so weak. Like a child’s.
But Braska was so much stronger than him. His resolve stood strong against the insistent begging of his friends. He would not so easily give up on his mission, and asked that Auron understand.
Auron said nothing in reply, his head low.
—
They continued onward. The trials awaited and Jecht complained loudly about the lack of luster around them. Whether he did so to lighten the gloomy air or it was a legitimate complaint, Auron couldn’t say.
He couldn’t bear to look either of them in the eye. Instead, he followed behind his two friends. Ever onward.
While Auron sought the words to convince his friends once more to stop and turn back, Jecht began to ask him something. Perhaps too eager to be distracted from his racing thoughts, Auron forced Jecht to speak what was on his mind. What he wasn’t expecting was the most shocking request one could receive.
Jecht knew he would never go back to Zanarkand. This was the end of the line. And somehow, someway, he wanted – no he needed – Auron to find a way to Zanarkand and watch over his son.
Somehow, despite everything, Auron was able to accept. Fervently. He didn’t want Jecht to have to worry about what would happen to his son. He swore to find him, to watch over him, to protect him with his life. And he meant every word, as if saying it with enough resolve would make it come to fruition right in that moment.
Jecht laughed and approached him, calling him a stiff.
The hug they shared was brief.
—
One never knew what was fact and fiction, when it came to the tales of those who had fought and defeated Sin. After all, they had never returned – their lives sacrificed to bring about a temporary Calm to the world.
It had been unbelievable already to see the lady Yunalesca. For a moment, but only a moment, Auron was caught in awe rather than in terror and sorrow of what was to come. For that brief second, his previous devotion to Yevon roared proudly in his chest. All those years of his life, spent praying and working and devoting life and limb to those beliefs were not in vain.
Then at her words, it all … came crumbling down. And Auron felt as though he had been pierced through his very heart.
Was it not enough that Braska had to sacrifice his life? But now, one of their lives had to be given as well to become his Final Aeon? The Final Aeon that would kill him? All for a temporary peace?
The scream was caught in his throat.
Beyond them lay the final chamber. One of them would become the fayth, and thus Braska’s Final Aeon.
“It’s not too late – let us turn back!” Auron pleaded with his friends. With every passing second, every passing breath, the inevitable moment shifted closer. He just needed to find the right words, the right insistence, to get them to listen.
“If I turn back, who will defeat Sin?” Braska’s resolve was unshakable, his voice strong, “Would you have some other summoner and his guardians go through this?”
Auron wanted to pull his hair out. Of course he didn’t want that either.
“But … my lord, there must be another way!”
There had to be. There had to be something else that could be done, to stop this madness. There had to be a different answer, something they weren’t seeing. Another path, another option.
Auron’s eyes were wide and frantic as he turned to Jecht, who he expected would agree with him.
“This is the only way we got now,” came Jecht’s words, and Auron felt as though he couldn’t breathe. An icy feeling sank into his gut as his hands trembled. There was a buzzing in his ears as Jecht continued, having come to terms with the fact that he would never make it home, he would never see his son again and he would never see his dream come true.
Jecht resolved to fight Sin with Braska.
“Don’t do this Jecht!” Auron urged, finding his voice once again as he pleaded with his friends, “If you live … there may be another way! We’ll think of something, I know!”
How many problems had they solved on their travels together? How much had they overcome together? As long as the three of them stayed by each other’s sides, they could figure anything out, overcome any obstacle, conquer any problem – he was sure of it!
But why … why couldn’t they see that?
Braska and Jecht had their resolve. They would bring down Sin.
They … wouldn’t listen to him.
“Lord Braska! Jecht!”
“What do you want now?” Jecht asked him, impatient.
Auron swallowed, his mouth dry and his heart pounding, “Sin always comes back. It comes back after the Calm every time! The cycle will continue and your deaths will mean nothing!”
Surely they saw that. They had to have had the same thought – especially Braska. He had lived it, he had seen it. For a thousand years Sin always came back, no matter what legendary summoner went to destroy it.
Braska was not deterred, “But there’s always a chance it won’t come back this time. It’s worth trying.”
Auron wanted to scream – are you listening to yourself? But Jecht spoke up before he could, insisting that he would break the cycle. As if he had some sort of master plan in his back pocket. His confident laughter echoed off the stone walls, laughter that had once instilled Auron with a variety of emotions; annoyance, amusement, even joy.
Now it brought nothing but emptiness.
Jecht and Braska disappeared beyond the door.
Auron fell to his knees.
And he wept.
—
By the time Braska emerged from the chamber, Auron’s tears had run their course. His heart lurched as he saw that the summoner was alone; Jecht no longer at his side. Braska was solemn as he passed and Auron followed him, without a word.
Whatever happened in the chamber, he truly did not want to know.
The journey back through Zanarkand was solemn. The two men did not exchange many words; Auron was exhausted, worn, and filled with regret. He did as he promised, protecting Braska back down the formidable mountain, and it was only battling the fiends that kept his mind from straying too far.
There was no longer any sense in opening his mouth. No more reason to argue.
Jecht was already gone.
Braska needed to regain his strength before the final battle, as the trials in Zanarkand had taken their toll on him physically. They camped where they had before at the foot of the mountain in near silence. Auron remained awake to keep watch over the night – unable to sleep even if he wanted. As he stared into the embers of the fire, he let his thoughts roam freely.
If Jecht was the Fayth, if Auron prayed to him, could he hear it?
The battle with Sin occurred the next day. Auron had to remain a ways away, to not get caught up in the clash. He watched from the foot of Mt. Gagazet as Braska brought forth the Final Aeon. As something that resembled Jecht appeared to fight Sin. The battle was terrifying to behold, and Braska’s aeon managed to pierce through Sin and fell the beast.
Braksa’s death cry could be heard even from that distance.
Jecht, the Final Aeon, vanished into pyreflies – destined to become the next Sin.
Auron wasn’t sure how long he sat at the bottom of the mountain, stunned into stillness and silence. He couldn’t say what he felt or what he did, prior to rising and making his way back up the mountain. He moved as if he was a man possessed, and with each step his fury grew. The sword on his back felt heavy, but his heart felt heavier.
He made his way back through the ruined city, and by the time he reached her once more, Auron knew what he needed to do.
When he laid eyes on Yunalesca, the words he’d been holding back came flowing freely.
“Where is the sense in all this?” Auron swung his sword before her, gritting his teeth as he yelled, “Braska believed in Yevon’s teachings and died for them!”
A piece of Auron’s heart cracked. Followed by another.
“Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!”
Auron steadied his blade as he stared down the ghost of Yunelesca – the one who revealed this madness to them in the first place. She stood perfectly still, as if he weren’t there at all as she addressed him, “They chose to die … because they had hope.”
A battle cry ripped through Auron’s throat. He rushed at Yunalesca with every fiber of righteous fury his body could possibly contain. He would kill her, he would tear everything down – this monstrous, useless ritual that she perpetuated. He would avenge the souls of his friends, who died only to continue this cycle of death and pain.
But his strike did not land.
An indescribable pain ripped across Auron’s body as he was thrown back, his blade no longer in his hands. Stunned he lay on the ground processing what had happened. When he finally managed to lift his head, Yunalesca was gone.
And nothing looked right.
His cry of pain was weak, with hardly any breath in his lungs with which to scream. His right hand, shaking, reached to touch his face. His eye, he couldn’t see…
Auron weakly pushed himself up, hissing as his skin and bone protested. Underneath of him blood dripped freely, pooling on the stone ground. He pressed a hand to his haori, trying to stem the flow.
Everything that came after was … a blur. Auron didn’t recall most of his trip down Mt. Gagazet, dragging himself along with nothing but the will of his promises to keep him moving. His feet were heavy, so heavy. Each inhale burned. His steps stumbled, hands shaking. Somehow, he got the words out to rent a room at the Travel Agency, brushing off the inquisitive Al Bhed that ran it. Curatives could not fix what had been done to him.
It was Yuna that he thought of. Braska’s little girl, who needed to go to Besaid. She was waiting for them back in Bevelle. Home.
Rest did not make things any better, but it gave Auron the last bit of strength he needed to continue onwards. Whether he passed others, he couldn’t say. Everything around him was beginning to blur the further he went along. By the time he reached the outskirts of Bevelle, Auron could no longer stand on his feet – having resorted to dragging himself along the ground.
He was dying.
Auron cursed himself, for having immediately failed Braska’s final request of him. Barely, he perceived the footsteps of another and reached out to the blur. Auron blinked his vision clear best he could, seeing a Ronso before him.
“Please,” he begged, his voice broken and weak, “Will you … listen … to a last request?”
The Ronso knelt down before him.
Auron pulled another shaky breath, sure to be one of his last, “I’m one of … Lord Braska’s guardians. His … daughter Yuna… I promised to take her to Besaid…”.
The world temporarily spun and went black, but Auron hissed and forced it back into focus.
“Please … find her and … take her to Besaid … She deserves a … peaceful life…”.
Auron tried to take another breath, but it refused to enter his lungs. When the world slowly faded this time, it did not come back. Numbness spread, as if he no longer had a body with which to feel. The last thing he heard was footsteps, moving away.
At least he could keep his promise to Braska in one way. But Jecht … he had failed Jecht, hadn’t he? To find a way to Zanarkand and watch over his boy.
Those feelings of deep shame and regret were all he could feel. Everything else went cold, then numb, and completely vanished.
—
But that wasn’t the end, was it?
Auron had fallen back on the stone ground, eye trained to the stars as they moved overhead. For most people, it would have been the final chapter of their story. But he had been too loyal, too determined, too angry to die. With a promise still to fulfill, his story continued on – as a blasphemous being, an Unsent.
Being dead had its advantages. He was able to move swiftly away from Bevelle and back to the shores of the Calm Lands, where the husk of Sin awaited him.
What Yunalesca had said was true – Sin would return once it was reconstructed. And where would a Sin, with Jecht at its core, make its home until that day came?
Zanarkand.
Even if it was a hopelessly foolish plan, Auron would think of something else. He channeled Jecht’s brash overconfidence and latched onto the terrifying being as it left the shore to rebuilt itself anew in the sea.
And so, Auron washed up in the Zanarkand he’d heard so much about, much in the way Jecht had come upon the shores of Spira.
In his effects was a small book; personal and filled to the brim with writing.
A recording of his time in Spira.
—
I’m not sure why I am bothering to write anything. You’ll never read this.
I’m lying to myself and saying that it is to better get used to this new hand-eye coordination.
Did you see me, when I climbed upon Sin? I swore I could hear you, telling me that my new scar was not as “cool” as all of yours.
I’ve made it to Zanarkand. Your home is somehow more gaudy than I could even imagine. Though, most of this land is beyond my understanding. Is there a single thing in Zanarkand that is not machina?
Your wife and son are safe. Your wife was very distressed when I gave her the news that you would not be returning and that you sent me in your stead to look after the boy. She has not come out of her room.
Your son hasn’t said much. He said he was happy you’re gone, but there was a lack of conviction in his words. Nothing but an emotional outburst from a child.
Tidus hasn’t cried yet. Were you lying to me, about how much he cries?
—
A healer – doctor, whatever they’re called here, came for your wife. He says she is very sick. That she will pass soon if things do not improve.
I admit I am very concerned. I have not been here long. If she were to die, I would not know what to do for Tidus. He is very worried about her. For him to lose you both so suddenly … I can only imagine what he is feeling.
—
Your wife was laid to rest today.
I could not save her.
—
It has been nearly a week since his mother’s passing, and Tidus has finally decided to acknowledge my existence.
I fear it is only because I have tried and failed to cook for him. He showed me how to use the stove today. Apparently he knows how to cook some, even at this tender age. It reminds me of learning to cook at the monastery.
I am still not used to my new vision limitations. I missed placing the rice on the counter and spilled it everywhere.
You would be laughing if you could see me. I am sure of it.
Tidus is wary of me, and I do not blame him. He becomes immediately upset if I mention you. I know you mentioned wanting to be a better father, but I can’t help but wonder how you treated him before you came to Spira.
Not to worry. I will care for him.
—
You did not warn me about children’s birthday parties. Did you know that I am expected to provide for an entire classroom of children?
The market sells, well a vast many things, one of which being … some concoction I can use to make tiny cakes.
I have never been more intimidated by anything in my life.
If I ever see you again, I will punch you in the face for this.
—
Tidus is quite talented at Blitzball. I can see why your dream was to see him at the top. He works hard, but I see success getting to his head a bit already. I had to remind him that he is a child and that he needs to continue to work hard or else he will not be as good as he wishes to be.
Taking after you, I wonder?
—
It has been one year since I arrived in Zanarkand. It’s been over a year since you and Braska …
I wonder if the Calm is still present in Spira. How Yuna is doing.
I wonder if anyone is telling the tale of the three unlikely heroes that defeated Sin?
… If I am being honest, I hope they are not. I would rather them forget my name entirely and let me fade into obscurity. It is what I deserve.
I will never forgive myself for being unable to convince the both of you to give up that venture.
It should be you here with Tidus. Not I.
—
Tidus is growing into a young man now. He is all awkward limbs, changing voice, and non-stop attitude. He has always glowered at pictures of you, but now he tells me nearly every day how much he hated you and that he’s tired of seeing you everywhere.
He is still going to the tournament they hold in your honor, of course.
His words are harsh, but there has never been any real bite behind them.
—
Tidus is playing for the Zanarkand Abes now. He is a star. I know you would be proud of him.
He is not as tall and wide as you, but he still plays very well. I catch him studying videos of your old matches all the time.
He is as open to criticism as you were. Very resistant to it.
For a boy who claims to hate you as much as he does, he hardly realizes how much like you he is.
—
I am unashamedly homesick. It is a weakness I have tried to keep hidden.
Tidus was humming the Hymn of the Fayth. I was drawn to it like moth to flame.
I embarrassed him I am sure. But it reminded me of how often you would sing it on our venture.
I wonder, if you were to still hear it, would you know what you were hearing? Would you still enjoy it?
… Can you even hear us at all?
—
There is change in the winds. I can feel it.
Are you going to come home? To Zanarkand?
Whatever you decide to do … I will be here.
I trust you have figured out a plan, like you said you would.
It’s been ten long years. When I see you, I will tell you that you took too long. I’m sure that will get a laugh.
I will keep Tidus safe, as promised. But, I hope you will not disappoint us.
—
Auron patted his pocket, feeling the small book still there. That was something personal, that he would take to the very end of the world with him. There were only two people whose eyes could ever fall upon it – one of whom was technically already dead and the other would probably die of embarrassment rather than know that such a thing existed.
Auron snorted. He should have forced Tidus to record spheres for the journey, rather than doing it himself in secret.
How many spheres had he left behind now? Hidden in secret, hopefully never needing to be useful to another generation of people, but … Just in case.
Not as many as stars in the sky.
He would record the final one shortly. Once the climb up Mt. Gagazet started, there would be no time to sneak away and do so. If all went well, though, there would be no need for anything further.
The spheres could be lost to time.
—
(A sphere is turned on. Auron slowly steps into the frame, holding the sphere too close to his scarred face for a moment before putting it back down.)
“I haven’t used one of these in ten years. I assume nothing has changed.”
(Auron steps into view again, not looking directly at the sphere, but toward the sea.)
“I am unsure of exactly how much time has passed. Sin pulled Tidus and I from Zanarkand, and we were separated.”
(Auron looks down for a moment.)
“He is strong. I am sure he will find his way here quickly. A blitzball tournament will be beginning in a few days time. If he does not appear then, I will go search for him.”
“From what I have heard from those here in Luca, Sin has recently returned to Spira. I can’t say for sure what my next step is, but Sin has decided at least two people it will involve.”
(Auron sighs, looking out toward the sea. It is clearly nighttime, with a bright moon shining.)
“I am … attempting to leave a record, should something go awry. For the next generation to find. We are currently at the end of Braska’s Calm. Braska’s Final Aeon is now the new Sin, as is the fate of all Final Aeons, as told to us by Yunalesca.”
(He laughs bitterly.)
“The Temples know this is how it works. But they will not tell you that. It would discourage the next summoner from sacrificing their life.”
“I don’t quite know how yet, but I will do my best to stop this cycle. A record of this venture will be scattered across Spira. If I am so lucky, these spheres will become useless quickly.”
(Auron steps out of the frame. Footsteps are heard, and then the sphere is lifted and turned off.)
—
Written in Auron’s book:
Written in Auron’s book:
I found Tidus today. He was in Luca at the Blitzball match. Fortune smiles upon me for whatever reason, as he was traveling with Braska’s daughter Yuna.
This was certainly not what I expected, but it is not unwelcome.
Yuna has grown into a wonderful young woman, if a little naive. However, Braska would be proud to know she lived a peaceful life and only recently became a summoner, wanting to follow in his footsteps. He should have been here to see it, just as you should have been here to see Tidus.
Yuna is joined by her other guardians: Wakka, a young blitzball player and Lulu, an intimidating young woman who practices in black magic. Kimahri Ronso, the very same that found me dying outside of Bevelle accompanies her as well. He has looked after her all this time. I could not be more relieved to see this.
Tidus is upset with me, and I cannot blame him for it. He knows I have been hiding much from him. I couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of Tidus believing it was MY decision to bring him to Spira. I told him immediately that you are Sin. It’s best to rip that bandage off for him now, before we continue onward.
He is having to pretend to be affected by Sin’s Toxin, just as you did.
Yuna’s other guardians have not accepted him yet, but they have allowed me to join without question.
I am known as a legendary guardian, apparently.
It sickens me.
—
(A sphere is clicked on. The landscape is shown; the grass and hills of the Highroads. It is dark, and the vision is limited. The sphere is set steady and Auron steps into the frame, his back to the sphere.)
“Some things never change. The Mi’ihen Highroad appears the same as it did a decade ago.”
(Auron shifts his weight from one foot to the other.)
“The Crusaders are quite active right now. Moreso than they were in my time. They are planning a large operation nearby. I can only assume it will spell tragedy.”
“Yuna now has several guardians by her side. Her goal is the same as any summoners; to reach Zanarkand and defeat Sin. She explained this to Tidus tonight.”
(Auron looks briefly at the camera, before walking out of frame.)
“Well. She cherry picked what she told him, anyway. Not that it matters. She will not be dying to defeat Sin.”
(The sphere is shut off.)
—
Written in Auron’s book:
Written in Auron’s book:
The blasted chocobo eater returned.
I haven’t laughed that hard in some time. Tidus wanted to fight it because it was the right thing to do.
It was finished off this time. No cliff necessary.
—
(A sphere is turned on. It is nighttime and the sphere captures the sea. Auron comes into the frame, sitting on a nearby rock and facing away from the sphere.)
“... Time changes some people for the worse. Wen Kinoc is a Maester now and spearheaded this useless operation that led to nothing but death.”
(Auron glances at something else for a moment. Pyreflies can be seen on the edges of the sphere.)
“Yuna has been sending the souls of the dead for hours. There are too many to count. Yevon, the church, Kinoc, they all knew this would happen. What was even the purpose? They believe Sin came here for its spawn they collected.”
(Auron spits on the ground.)
“He didn’t come for them. He came here for Tidus. Jecht is trying to find his son.”
(Auron turns toward the sphere for a moment, before looking back out to the sea.)
“I can only hope the Maester’s will keep their nose away from Sin for the time being, to avoid any more unnecessary death. I don’t need them constantly sniffing around Yuna. It has already led to too many awkward questions about myself.”
(Auron pushes himself up from the rock. He walks out of the frame and the footsteps come closer to the sphere.)
“Sin is Jecht, and he will not stop chasing after his son. How he has held on for this long … I don’t know. Maybe this is a part of his plan.”
(The sphere clicks off.)
—
Written in Auron’s book:
Written in Auron’s book:
Well. The very same shoopuf you attacked is alive and well, with an interesting scar to tell its story. I shared that story with Tidus. He was embarrassed on your behalf. It was rather amusing.
The mystery of the Al Bhed’s involvement with Yuna has been solved. I don’t know that all the other Guardians have realized it, but the young girl that appeared on the shore after Yuna’s kidnapping-gone-wrong is an Al Bhed. She spoke with Yuna as if she knew her. I suspect she may be Yuna’s cousin – the daughter of Braska’s wife’s brother. I will have to press Rin for information.
If he can keep his damn mouth shut about the fact that I looked like death ten years ago.
I allowed the girl, Rikku, to join as another of Yuna’s guardians. I doubt she will listen any better than the rest of them have so far.
And I thought a pilgrimage with you was difficult.
I had no clue.
—
(A sphere begins recording. Cracks of thunder are heard far in the background. The lighting is not great. A figure is barely seen moving in the frame.)
“I knew things were likely not to go well in Guadosalam. However, things became much worse than I feared. I knew it was likely someone there would detect me an Unsent, but for it to have been Seymour – a summoner – that could be … problematic.”
(Auron is heard exhaling, then laughing bitterly.)
“That doesn’t seem to be his top concern. He wants to wed Yuna. I have yet to figure out what he plans to get out of that. No one in a position like his does something without an ulterior motive.”
(Auron’s boots scuff against the ground.)
“For now, we have avoided disaster. I don’t forsee Yuna moving forward with this proposal, but she is – at times – as wonderfully unpredictable as her father was. But, her heart is pure, and I fear her naivety will cause issues down the line.”
(Auron chuckles again.)
“Jyscal Guado appeared outside of the Farplane. She had to Send him. She has no idea she began to Send me as well. I haven’t felt a pain like that since I died.”
(Among the distant rumbles in the background, Tidus’s voice is heard shouting Auron’s name.)
“Thanks to the children, we are stuck in this travel agency for the evening rather than moving out of the Thunder Plains. It’s much harder to sneak around without being noticed.”
“Perhaps, when we reach Macalania, this plot of “Maester” Seymour will have shown itself.”
(A hand is seen coming over the sphere. Tidus’s voice is heard closer now.)
“Geez old man, are you TRYING to get struck by lightning?”
“Hmm? I needed to get away from Rikku’s shrieking for a moment.”
“Hey, she’s the normal one for being afraid of being struck by lightning. Wait, it’s pitch black out here, are you still wearing your glasses? Let’s go inside before you trip and break a hip or something.”
“... I’m sure your uncharacteristic sassing has nothing to do with Yuna’s proposal.”
“Shut up!!”
(The sphere is fumbled around in a pocket while the conversation goes on, and is finally turned off as Auron laughs.)
—
Written in Auron’s book:
Braska, I am unsure how you would feel about Yuna accepting Seymour’s proposal. It is not the kind of decision I could see you supporting. Though she has decided to say yes, her eyes are downcast and her spirit seems duller.
I want to tell her not to do it. But, she is so much like you. She is not likely to listen to me if she has made up her mind.
I feel that Tidus may be the only one to convince her otherwise.
Jecht, your boy is as stubborn and clueless as you. I was able to find one of the spheres we left behind on our original venture to show him, including a message I was unaware you had recorded. He is more conflicted about you now than he ever has been before.
I told him that you loved him, but you weren’t sure how to show it. I don’t know if he believed me or not. If he only knew how much you talked about him, all the things you wanted to show him …
It should have been you spending these last ten years with him. Not me.
—
(A sphere is turned on. The sun is bright and a vast desert scene is shown. Auron crouches down in front of the sphere, glancing on either side of himself.)
“A lot has happened. I don’t have much time. I need to go find Tidus.”
(He wipes sweat from his brow.)
“At the Macalania Temple, we discovered that Seymour murdered his father, Jyscal. Fatricide wasn’t my first guess of what exactly was wrong with him, but I can’t say I’m surprised. We were forced to battle him as he turned on Yuna, and he was slain. However, the Guado carried him away before he could be sent. It is likely that we will see him again in the future.”
(Auron adjusts his sunglasses, squinting as light reflects off of the sphere.)
“We ended up under the ice of Lake Macalania. Yuna’s goal for accepting the proposal was to try and convince Seymour to turn himself in. I’m relieved to hear she knew of what he had done and had a plan when she suddenly decided to accept. Though, I would not have approved of the plan.”
“We are traitors now, I’m sure.”
(Auron pulls the broadsword from his back, peering over the sphere for a moment.)
“Sin was underneath the ice as well. We could clearly hear the Hymn of the Faith.”
“... It was a song Jecht loved. Were you there to listen to it?”
(Tidus’s voice is heard in the distance. Auron curses, grabbing the sphere. For a moment all that is shown is Auron’s boots in the sand before the sphere is turned off.)
—
Written in Auron’s book:
I haven’t had a moment to write or record anything in some time.
This Pilgrimage is much messier than ours was.
The Al Bhed city was under siege by the Guado when we arrived. You would never have seen it, I suppose. We never went there with Braska. You may have found it more familiar – filled with machina, like your Zanarkand.
We were forced to flee aboard an airship. Yuna was not there, nor was she on the ship. She had been apprehended by the Guado prior to our arrival, and that ridiculous farce of a wedding was still set. I knew we were likely to see Seymour again, but I did not think it would be so quickly.
Kinoc was there. I don’t believe you ever met him – you would have hated him. He was once an honorable monk, but power seemed to have gone straight to his head. It was difficult not to laugh when he pointed a machina weapon in my face. The very thing he once cursed as blasphemous, a short ten years ago.
Yuna was able to escape, as were we, and we met her at the Temple. However, shortly after she received Bahamut, we were arrested and sent to stand trial. I wish I could say I was surprised that no one seemed bothered by the fact that Seymour was an Unsent. When Mika revealed he was one as well, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
I knew that the church was poisoned, but for it to have spread that far?
I told Tidus the truth about Sin, that it always returns, that this land is nothing but a spiral of death. He took it about as well as you would have.
… Never in my life (afterlife) did I expect to see the Via Purifico. I only knew of it from my time as a monk. I had never seen anyone sentenced there. It’s a near inescapable maze. I’m proud that this group of Guardians figured out an escape. It was impressive, watching them work together.
Unfortunately, Seymour returned, with Kinoc’s corpse in tow. Though he was no longer the man I once knew, it still hurt to see him tossed away as if he were nothing. His betrayal to me did not erase the fact that we grew up together, that some of the happiest memories of my youth involved him.
Slaying the beast that Seymour became brought only minor relief.
We have returned to the Macalania woods for now. Yuna needed to be alone, as one could understand. She has now seen the true face of Yevon. The veil has been lifted from her eyes.
… But her Pilgrimage must continue. Though I have not been able to reveal the truth to them yet, that time will soon come.
It will not be long before we see you again, my friend. I’m sure of that. I expect you’ll be ready.
—
Auron blinked, having hardly noticed the change of the sky’s color, lost in thought as he lay on the hard ground. The stars were still visible but starting to fade as a deep purple and pink approached the horizon.
He reached into his pocket, pulling out the sphere he’d been recording on. He sat it on the rocks that made up the long-lost fire pit, hand lingering on its surface for a moment before he finally pressed the button to record.
“I’m unsure if I will be able to record anything else. Where the venture takes us now, things will move quickly, and I do not know what is to come.”
He sighed, looking over his shoulder as he continued to speak – exhausted, “Yevon is in disarray. I can only hope this will make it easier for us to continue onward. However, we are branded as traitors, and those among the temples and churches are to slay us on sight.”
Auron snorted.
“As if that strategy has worked so far.”
He sat still for a moment, contemplative, “We will begin to make our way up the mountain in a few short hours. Then, to Zanarkand. I … there is no plan.”
Auron rubbed his chin, glancing again to the sphere.
“What is it you told me, Jecht? I’ll figure something out. I suppose it’s my time to do that.”
Auron reached for the sphere, turning it off. He moved the rubble that sat upon the abandoned fire and placed the sphere under it, burying it. Perhaps someone would find it in the future, or it would lay abandoned for the rest of time. Either way, it was now out of his hands. Auron dusted his hands off and retrieved his blade, returning to the remains of the bonfire, careful not to wake any of the slumbering Guardians.
Figure it out.
He’d figure it out.
He had to.
—
As the group traveled, they came upon Kelk and his tribe of Ronso. Auron stayed at the ready, but Yuna and Kimahri were able to prove their worth and earn their approval. However, the peace was quickly cut short with the reappearance of Seymour, who slaughtered many of the Ronso. They were forced to battle with the Unsent summoner once more, but were able to dispatch him.
It was then that Tidus told the rest of the group that Sin was his father.
Despite all the things that he could have explained, Auron held back, instead urging the others to discover the secrets on their own. It would do them no good to simply hear it from him. These were all things they would need to experience.
He could only let them have glimpses of his own sad story. Telling Wakka and Tidus of his own doubts during the original Pilgrimage the closer they came to the end, and that he was nothing but a boy – much like them now. Auron wanted to change the world and make things better.
But he changed nothing.
Finishing their trek through Mt. Gagazet, they came upon Zanarkand. Such a place summoned forth all of Auron’s pain and regrets, and as they moved along, each of his previous memories came forth to haunt him – showing Yuna and the rest of the guardians what he, Braska, and Jecht suffered through, and their true fate.
Auron, angry and distraught, attempted to cut away the apparition of his memory as the younger version of him fell to his knees, having failed to convince Braska and Jecht to give up the Pilgrimage.
The party comes upon Yunalesca, and Auron allows her to say her piece and lets Yuna make her own decision. Others begin to offer to become Yuna’s fayth, but Tidus refuses to accept this option. After Tidus’s speech, Yuna decides as well that they will come up with a different plan. They follow after Yunalesca, learning the truth behind the cycle of Sin, and that Sin will never be truly eradicated.
It was at this point that Auron’s final memory played before them, showing his death at the hands of Yunalesca after Braska and Jecht’s sacrifices.When Yuna refuses the Final Aeon, Yunalesca opts to kill them to save them from suffering – as she had tried with Auron 10 years prior.
Auron rallies Yuna and the Guardians to defeat Yunalesca once and for all. She is finally destroyed, and Auron can feel nothing but the satisfaction of revenge as she fades away. As the exit the remains of the Zanarkand dome, Sin watches them for a moment before turning away.
However, a new problem presented itself – what to do next. There was no … plan for defeating Sin.
Auron pushes Tidus to think. He reminds Tidus of what they do know, and encourages him, before walking away to allow the group to come up with something.
Together, they decided that the Hymn was the key.
Traveling on Cid’s airship, the group returns to Bevelle with Yevon still in such disarray. The group is still considered traitors, but they are saved from being attacked by Shelinda – who was suddenly called to become the captain of the guard. Thanks to her, they are granted an audience with Maester Mika – who has put his faith in Yuna now that everyone else has gone from him. When Mika realizes that they refused the Final Aeon and destroyed Yunalesca, he believes Spira to be forever doomed, and willingly leaves for the Farplane. However, his parting story reveals the truth of Yu Yevon to the party.
To save face with what was left of Yevon and keep them from attacking the party, Auron lies to Shelinda that the Grand Maester still hasn’t come to see them yet. He allows Tidus and Yuna to then go and speak with the Fayth in Bevelle’s Temple, where they learn further truths about Yu Yevon.
Before they depart, they ask for Shelinda’s help in having everyone in Spira sing the Hymn of the Fayth.
The group returns to the airship, to take on Sin. The first fight it from the top of the airship, knocking off the mighty beast’s arms. The group then leaps from the airship, landing on the beast itself. There they continue to fight against parts of Sin’s armor, causing Sin to fall from the sky and crash as the party watches from the safety of the airship. However, they know that Sin will rise again quickly, and Tidus rallies them to defeat the guy inside of Sin.
Sin rose once more having sprouted wings like appendages from its head.
Auron watched, commenting to Tidus that Jecht was waiting for him.
From the top of the ship the party engaged Sin once more – until the beast swallowed them. Inside was a sea of pyreflies, beautiful, until a vision of Seymour washed over them. The ship lands and Tidus leads the group forward in search of Jecht, but they instead find Seymour first.
Because not even in the belly of Sin are you safe from Seymour, apparently.
After defeating Seymour for the final time, the party is able to travel onward, finding wreckage of Zanarkand. They were then transported to an area that resembled the Zanarkand dome – where Jecht stood waiting for them. Tidus approached his father, with Auron alongside him. Jecht commented to Auron that he was late, and as Auron regarded his friend he’d lost ten long years ago, he could only bow his head and reply an affirmative.
Father and son had a brief reunion, awkward and endearing. As Jecht spoke about nearly becoming Sin, about what they had to do, that he wouldn’t be in control, Tidus insisted it was enough. Auron and Tidus watched as Jecht walked away, an energy consuming him as he vanished – with Tidus chasing after him.
Not even Auron expected to see Braska’s Final Aeon rise from the depths as the being they would need to defeat.
A harsh battle followed as they defeated the Final Aeon, and as it vanished, Jecht reappeared in its place. Auron began to run forward to catch his friend, but Tidus was one step ahead, catching his father as Jecht was able to give his final words of encouragement to the group before vanishing into pyreflies.
With the Aeons vanquished and the final fight on the horizon, Tidus told the group that he would vanish after the fight. Together, they rushed forward to defeat Yu Yevon; which was nothing but a husk of what the ancient summoner once was.
Spira watched on as Sin was finally defeated. The fayth were finally able to stop dreaming and rest.
The dead should be allowed to rest.
As Yuna began dancing to guide the souls to the Farplane, Auron too was finally allowed to rest. He encouraged Yuna to continue sending him, as he gladly let go of his attachment to Spira, his role fulfilled – knowing the world was in good hands.
And so, the last chapter closed on the story of Auron’s life.
Or so he thought.
Perhaps, the dead never were allowed to rest after all.
IV. AUTHOR
PLAYER ALIAS:: Lala
OTHER CHARACTERS:: Ignis Scientia, Angeal Hewley
ROLE-PLAYING EXPERIENCE:: 20+ years sobs
HOW YOU FOUND US:: I’m like part of the wall
NOTES FOR CONSIDERATION:: Is anyone surprised I picked up yet another responsible man
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE:: Just picture Auron grumbling.
OTHER CHARACTERS:: Ignis Scientia, Angeal Hewley
ROLE-PLAYING EXPERIENCE:: 20+ years sobs
HOW YOU FOUND US:: I’m like part of the wall
NOTES FOR CONSIDERATION:: Is anyone surprised I picked up yet another responsible man
ROLE-PLAY SAMPLE:: Just picture Auron grumbling.
