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rose_in_winterCharacter: Yuna
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Previous chapters here.
Wordcount: 1700 words this chapter.
Summary: Five scenes from a summoner's training. Yuna faces the trial of Besaid Temple.
Beta:seventhe
The Cloister of Trials was too quiet by far. Yuna was accustomed to the constant echo of the Hymn in the Temple, and the Cloister was devoid of the sound. This was not to say it was silent; the slap-slap of Wakka's sandals, the quiet click of Lulu's shoes, and the too-loud nervous thuds of her own boots rang off the smooth stone walls. Kimahri alone made no sound, his paws silent against the floor. Yuna gripped her staff more tightly and nodded to Lulu, who handed her the golden sphere incised with the name Besaid.
Yuna stepped up to the pedestal before her and carefully placed the sphere in the notch carved into it. The sphere began to glitter like sunlight off the ocean.
"That should do it," Wakka said. He and Lulu both had been careful not to offer advice as they navigated the Cloister, though Lulu had done it twice before and Wakka once. Yuna was grateful; she would not have it said that she benefited from more knowledgeable guardians, and was therefore less of a summoner.
Kimahri laid one of his massive paws on her shoulder. Yuna stepped back, clutching her staff so tightly that her knuckles went white.
The pedestal slid easily forward when Kimahri leaned against it, until it reached the center of the inlaid design on the floor. It seemingly sank into nowhere, and the elevator lit up.
"As the summoner, you go first," Lulu reminded her gently. Yuna nodded and stepped onto the elevator, her guardians following close behind.
The elevator sank into the floor with a faint whirring sound. Yuna watched the pale gold stone walls slide by, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She was Lord Braska's daughter. She would not fail at this.
The elevator came smoothly to a halt and the Hymn of the Fayth swelled around them, sung in a high voice that could be either a woman's or a young boy's. Yuna stepped down from the elevator, her eyes fixed on the vast stone slab that served as a door for the Chamber of the Fayth.
Lulu rested a hand on her shoulder, her skin cool and comforting in the airless heat. "When you're ready," she said.
"Do your best, ya?" Wakka said. He was spinning his blitzball on his fingers; Yuna doubted he even noticed the nervous habit. She heard what he didn't say, as well: that he would be just as glad if she did not succeed, for then they would not have to lose her.
Kimahri said nothing, but took up a stance before the door.
Yuna clutched her staff and stepped forward to make the gesture of prayer, singing along with the fayth as Lord Kieran had told her to do. With a slow, groaning grind of rock on rock, the door lifted to allow her access.
She badly wanted to look back at Lulu, for support, but there were some things a summoner must do alone. She forced her fingers to loosen their death-grip on her staff and stepped into the Chamber of the Fayth.
The sound of the door grinding shut behind her was terrifyingly final.
Trying to calm her racing heart, she took several deep breaths. The statue of the Fayth began to emit a faint radiance, which intensified gradually. Yuna took up her staff in the stance that Lord Kieran had taught her. "I am Yuna, daughter of Braska," she said aloud, and told herself that her voice did not quaver. "I have undergone the training to be a summoner in service to Yevon. I come today to summon you, the fayth of Besaid Temple." The echo of her voice sounded very small, in a room that seemed much larger than it should have been. She took one last calming breath, and began the dance.
The summoning dance was the mirror of the sending dance. Where that dance spiraled outward to send souls to the Farplane, this one turned inward to draw the fayth's power. She had danced this pattern hundreds of times before during her training, and her feet moved almost of their own accord. This was almost easy. She would soon be able to call herself Summoner Yuna; no longer an apprentice, but a full-fledged summoner.
Her steps led her to the center of the spiral, and then out again. Left over right, right over left, turn, bend, sweep the staff in the direction of the spiral, left over right, right over left, spin, and bend. The Hymn of the Fayth continued, the same simple notes held over and over again, much like the steps of the dance.
She came to the entrance of the chamber, and turned back toward the center. She wondered how long it took for the fayth to reveal itself. Lord Kieran had not answered her when she asked, saying only that it took as long as it took. Left over right, right over left. Some summoners, she knew, died in the Chamber of the Fayth, so rejected by the guardians of Yevon that they were not even permitted the opportunity to make a different life outside the temple.
Would the fayth judge her more harshly, or more gently, because she was her father's daughter?
The steps of the dance began to blend into each other, a soothing effect. Yuna tilted her chin up. She would not fail. She would prove herself worthy to the fayth.
She did not know how long she danced; there was no sunlight to mark the time. Her throat grew tight and parched, and her leg muscles began to tremble with weariness. She must not stop. Had she been dancing for hours, or mere minutes? She wasn't sure if it would be better or worse to know how long this was taking.
She was so focused on maintaining the steps of the dance, of keeping herself upright, that she did not realize the fayth had appeared until she nearly stepped on his foot. She skipped backwards, startled, and gasped out an apology.
"You are Braska's daughter," the fayth said. It (he?) looked like a boy, too tall to be a young child, but not yet with the deeper voice that would signal he was nearly a man. Yuna guessed he would be about ten, if he were a child of the island and not an immortal aeon soul.
She made the gesture of prayer, and bowed her head. "I am Yuna, daughter of Braska."
"He named you for Lady Yunalesca," the fayth said calmly. Yuna could not tell if he meant it as a question, so she stayed silent. "Now you wish to follow in his footsteps, and in hers."
"I want to be a summoner," Yuna said.
"Why?" The fayth turned away. "Do you want your name in the history books with your father's? Father and daughter, high summoners together?"
Yuna was taken aback by the bitterness and anger in the fayth's voice. Did the fayth even have such emotions? Was she imagining things? "It's not that," she protested. "That isn't why I want this."
"Then why, daughter of Braska? Why do you come here, and call me forth?" The fayth turned back, and Yuna felt an immense power emanating from his small frame. The sound of beating wings echoed in the chamber, and the howling of the wind. "For what purpose do you seek this mantle?"
Lord Kieran had not warned her of this questioning. Yuna took two deep breaths and tried to think past the building fear. She would not fail here, would not die at the hands of the fayth. "I want the people of Spira to be able to live without fear," she said.
The fayth cocked his head to the side. "Yet Sin returns," he said.
Yuna nodded. "Sin has returned every time," she agreed. "But this time, it might not."
"If it does?" The fayth was watching her intently, and the sense of power surrounding it had intensified. Yuna felt dizzy, her muscles on the verge of cramping, and her throat was so dry she could barely speak. The sound of beating wings thundered in her ears until it drowned out everything else.
She felt as though she couldn't breathe, her chest squeezed and compacted by the power in the chamber. It was hard to think.
"If it does--" She had to stop, had to try to draw in more air, and it got harder each time. She could only draw enough breath for a few words at a time, and her words came out broken and gasping. "Then at least there will have been a few years when the people of Spira could sleep without fear."
Everything stopped.
Yuna dropped to her knees and bent forward, gasping for air. The sudden silence rang in her ears like the temple gongs. The pressure around her chest faded, as did the sense of overwhelming strength emanating from the fayth.
When she could breathe freely again, she lifted her head, and saw the image of Besaid's aeon superimposed over the figure of the fayth. When the fayth spoke again, it sounded as though he had two voices--one his own, and the other the sharp cry of a hunting bird. "Go with our blessings and aid, Summoner Yuna, daughter of High Summoner Braska," he said. "We judge you fit to serve the Temple of Yevon."
Yuna scrambled to her feet and staggered, dizzy from the sudden change of position. When the chamber stopped tilting at odd angles, she made the gesture of prayer. "Thank you," she said.
The fayth vanished.
She could hear some kind of commotion in the room outside. She walked to the door and laid her hand on it, leaning against it for support more than she should have. The door slid upward, and she tumbled forward.
Kimahri caught her before she could hit the stone floor. She could see the tense concern on their faces--and someone she didn't recognize standing behind Kimahri.
"I have done it," she said, and felt the heady rush of the words. "I have become a summoner."
~*~
Chapter Four: Vow
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Notes: Previous chapters here.
Wordcount: 1700 words this chapter.
Summary: Five scenes from a summoner's training. Yuna faces the trial of Besaid Temple.
Beta:
seventheThe Cloister of Trials was too quiet by far. Yuna was accustomed to the constant echo of the Hymn in the Temple, and the Cloister was devoid of the sound. This was not to say it was silent; the slap-slap of Wakka's sandals, the quiet click of Lulu's shoes, and the too-loud nervous thuds of her own boots rang off the smooth stone walls. Kimahri alone made no sound, his paws silent against the floor. Yuna gripped her staff more tightly and nodded to Lulu, who handed her the golden sphere incised with the name Besaid.
Yuna stepped up to the pedestal before her and carefully placed the sphere in the notch carved into it. The sphere began to glitter like sunlight off the ocean.
"That should do it," Wakka said. He and Lulu both had been careful not to offer advice as they navigated the Cloister, though Lulu had done it twice before and Wakka once. Yuna was grateful; she would not have it said that she benefited from more knowledgeable guardians, and was therefore less of a summoner.
Kimahri laid one of his massive paws on her shoulder. Yuna stepped back, clutching her staff so tightly that her knuckles went white.
The pedestal slid easily forward when Kimahri leaned against it, until it reached the center of the inlaid design on the floor. It seemingly sank into nowhere, and the elevator lit up.
"As the summoner, you go first," Lulu reminded her gently. Yuna nodded and stepped onto the elevator, her guardians following close behind.
The elevator sank into the floor with a faint whirring sound. Yuna watched the pale gold stone walls slide by, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She was Lord Braska's daughter. She would not fail at this.
The elevator came smoothly to a halt and the Hymn of the Fayth swelled around them, sung in a high voice that could be either a woman's or a young boy's. Yuna stepped down from the elevator, her eyes fixed on the vast stone slab that served as a door for the Chamber of the Fayth.
Lulu rested a hand on her shoulder, her skin cool and comforting in the airless heat. "When you're ready," she said.
"Do your best, ya?" Wakka said. He was spinning his blitzball on his fingers; Yuna doubted he even noticed the nervous habit. She heard what he didn't say, as well: that he would be just as glad if she did not succeed, for then they would not have to lose her.
Kimahri said nothing, but took up a stance before the door.
Yuna clutched her staff and stepped forward to make the gesture of prayer, singing along with the fayth as Lord Kieran had told her to do. With a slow, groaning grind of rock on rock, the door lifted to allow her access.
She badly wanted to look back at Lulu, for support, but there were some things a summoner must do alone. She forced her fingers to loosen their death-grip on her staff and stepped into the Chamber of the Fayth.
The sound of the door grinding shut behind her was terrifyingly final.
Trying to calm her racing heart, she took several deep breaths. The statue of the Fayth began to emit a faint radiance, which intensified gradually. Yuna took up her staff in the stance that Lord Kieran had taught her. "I am Yuna, daughter of Braska," she said aloud, and told herself that her voice did not quaver. "I have undergone the training to be a summoner in service to Yevon. I come today to summon you, the fayth of Besaid Temple." The echo of her voice sounded very small, in a room that seemed much larger than it should have been. She took one last calming breath, and began the dance.
The summoning dance was the mirror of the sending dance. Where that dance spiraled outward to send souls to the Farplane, this one turned inward to draw the fayth's power. She had danced this pattern hundreds of times before during her training, and her feet moved almost of their own accord. This was almost easy. She would soon be able to call herself Summoner Yuna; no longer an apprentice, but a full-fledged summoner.
Her steps led her to the center of the spiral, and then out again. Left over right, right over left, turn, bend, sweep the staff in the direction of the spiral, left over right, right over left, spin, and bend. The Hymn of the Fayth continued, the same simple notes held over and over again, much like the steps of the dance.
She came to the entrance of the chamber, and turned back toward the center. She wondered how long it took for the fayth to reveal itself. Lord Kieran had not answered her when she asked, saying only that it took as long as it took. Left over right, right over left. Some summoners, she knew, died in the Chamber of the Fayth, so rejected by the guardians of Yevon that they were not even permitted the opportunity to make a different life outside the temple.
Would the fayth judge her more harshly, or more gently, because she was her father's daughter?
The steps of the dance began to blend into each other, a soothing effect. Yuna tilted her chin up. She would not fail. She would prove herself worthy to the fayth.
She did not know how long she danced; there was no sunlight to mark the time. Her throat grew tight and parched, and her leg muscles began to tremble with weariness. She must not stop. Had she been dancing for hours, or mere minutes? She wasn't sure if it would be better or worse to know how long this was taking.
She was so focused on maintaining the steps of the dance, of keeping herself upright, that she did not realize the fayth had appeared until she nearly stepped on his foot. She skipped backwards, startled, and gasped out an apology.
"You are Braska's daughter," the fayth said. It (he?) looked like a boy, too tall to be a young child, but not yet with the deeper voice that would signal he was nearly a man. Yuna guessed he would be about ten, if he were a child of the island and not an immortal aeon soul.
She made the gesture of prayer, and bowed her head. "I am Yuna, daughter of Braska."
"He named you for Lady Yunalesca," the fayth said calmly. Yuna could not tell if he meant it as a question, so she stayed silent. "Now you wish to follow in his footsteps, and in hers."
"I want to be a summoner," Yuna said.
"Why?" The fayth turned away. "Do you want your name in the history books with your father's? Father and daughter, high summoners together?"
Yuna was taken aback by the bitterness and anger in the fayth's voice. Did the fayth even have such emotions? Was she imagining things? "It's not that," she protested. "That isn't why I want this."
"Then why, daughter of Braska? Why do you come here, and call me forth?" The fayth turned back, and Yuna felt an immense power emanating from his small frame. The sound of beating wings echoed in the chamber, and the howling of the wind. "For what purpose do you seek this mantle?"
Lord Kieran had not warned her of this questioning. Yuna took two deep breaths and tried to think past the building fear. She would not fail here, would not die at the hands of the fayth. "I want the people of Spira to be able to live without fear," she said.
The fayth cocked his head to the side. "Yet Sin returns," he said.
Yuna nodded. "Sin has returned every time," she agreed. "But this time, it might not."
"If it does?" The fayth was watching her intently, and the sense of power surrounding it had intensified. Yuna felt dizzy, her muscles on the verge of cramping, and her throat was so dry she could barely speak. The sound of beating wings thundered in her ears until it drowned out everything else.
She felt as though she couldn't breathe, her chest squeezed and compacted by the power in the chamber. It was hard to think.
"If it does--" She had to stop, had to try to draw in more air, and it got harder each time. She could only draw enough breath for a few words at a time, and her words came out broken and gasping. "Then at least there will have been a few years when the people of Spira could sleep without fear."
Everything stopped.
Yuna dropped to her knees and bent forward, gasping for air. The sudden silence rang in her ears like the temple gongs. The pressure around her chest faded, as did the sense of overwhelming strength emanating from the fayth.
When she could breathe freely again, she lifted her head, and saw the image of Besaid's aeon superimposed over the figure of the fayth. When the fayth spoke again, it sounded as though he had two voices--one his own, and the other the sharp cry of a hunting bird. "Go with our blessings and aid, Summoner Yuna, daughter of High Summoner Braska," he said. "We judge you fit to serve the Temple of Yevon."
Yuna scrambled to her feet and staggered, dizzy from the sudden change of position. When the chamber stopped tilting at odd angles, she made the gesture of prayer. "Thank you," she said.
The fayth vanished.
She could hear some kind of commotion in the room outside. She walked to the door and laid her hand on it, leaning against it for support more than she should have. The door slid upward, and she tumbled forward.
Kimahri caught her before she could hit the stone floor. She could see the tense concern on their faces--and someone she didn't recognize standing behind Kimahri.
"I have done it," she said, and felt the heady rush of the words. "I have become a summoner."
~*~
Chapter Four: Vow