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Character: Yuna
Rating: G
Contains: Spoilers
Notes: Other chapters found here.
Wordcount: 1280 this chapter.
Summary: Five scenes from a summoner's training at Besaid Temple.
Beta:
seventhe
Yuna watched Besaid grow larger through the front windows of the Celsius. It seemed strange, now, to return home after she had already said her goodbyes. The little island seemed impossibly small in the midst of the wide blue ocean. She had not dared to ask that they might come here first, but it seemed Tidus had known anyway, as it had been his first suggestion.
If she had to say goodbye a second time, she preferred to do it at the beginning, not the end.
She stood quietly on the bridge, her hands clasped in front of her. Rikku kept casting her curious looks, but for now the allure of new machina was more powerful than her curiosity about Yuna’s state of mind. Yuna was grateful for that. The other guardians kept their own counsel, and she was grateful for that too.
She watched Besaid grow larger as they approached, and wondered what welcome she would find from the Fayth there. Already she had turned her back on the Temple that had shaped her entire life. Though Shelinda had granted them absolution (at the cost, once again of the Al Bhed—something Yuna intended to do something about when she completed her pilgrimage), Yuna still felt keenly her own betrayal of all that she had been taught. Maester Mika’s reaction had been proof enough of that.
“You won’t get there looking back,” Lulu said, almost absently. Her gaze was locked on the blue sword Tidus still carried, the sword that had once been Wakka’s gift to Chappu.
“I know.” Yuna’s fingers fiddled at the edge of her long sweeping sleeves. Over the course of their journey, the fine embroidered robes she'd been given as the Summoner's Gift had become ragged at the edges, stained by travel and worn thin. Yuna knew it was defeatist, but she felt that her dream of being a summoner had become as tattered and worn as her garments. It had seemed so simple in Besaid—never easy, for to walk into one's own death with open eyes and head held high was not easy—but simple. She would sacrifice herself for Spira, and the people would have another taste of peace. Perhaps, if she had been very faithful to the teachings, that peace would last forever.
The Eternal Calm. Yuna's lips shaped the words soundlessly. It had been her dream since she'd waved farewell to her father from the dock at Besaid ten years ago. Valefor's Fayth had confirmed it when she prayed in Besaid at the beginning of her journey. Oh, he had made no promises, the boy who was a Fayth (or perhaps the Fayth who was a boy), but he had granted her the power to try.
Yuna ran her fingers over the embroidery on her sleeves. Her father had named her for Lady Yunalesca, that most revered and famous of the High Summoners, who had created the Final Aeon. Lady Yunalesca had been the first to stop Sin, however temporarily.
Yuna intended to be the last. Unlike her namesake, she was not content with a short span of peace and a lie spun out over centuries.
Yuna glanced at Sir Auron, who stood sentinel by the front window. She wondered if he felt relief that Lady Yunalesca had been slain, or if he was only tired, or something else entirely.
Rikku finally stopped trying to crawl underneath the pieces of machina that lined the—walls?—of the Celsius and came to join her. "Are you okay, Yunie?" she asked.
Smiling even when she felt sad was habit by now. Yuna curved the corners of her mouth upward. "I'll be fine, Rikku."
"We can do it!" Rikku said firmly.
"I know we can." The smile felt a little less false now. It was hard to be sad around Rikku.
"We're there!" Cid announced, and Yuna felt an odd shuddering in the ship as Cid brought it into—did an airship dock? She didn't know the terminology, though she'd spent half her life around boats; this was another thing altogether.
They disembarked and made their way to the temple. It was very strange to tread the same path she had walked so many times before, but this time as an outsider rather than a girl of the village. Yuna wasn't really welcomed as she had hoped she might be, but she wasn't surprised, either. Besaid was a very traditional town, and she had transgressed against Yevon. Forgiven or not, it was a great deal for them to overcome, even for the girl they had raised as a village.
Perhaps especially for her.
Yuna kept her smile locked firmly in place as she walked. It got easier when she saw something she remembered fondly, and harder when someone looked away rather than meet her eyes. She sensed the tension in her guardians, but none of them spoke—not even Tidus or Wakka. Rikku, after the first person was obviously torn between respecting a guardian and sneering at an Al Bhed, took to slinking in the center of their group, where she would be less visible between Kimahri's furry bulk and Auron's flowing coat.
The temple seemed almost tiny, after the massive pile of stone in Djose and the towering structures of Bevelle. The priest who bowed them in had taught Yuna how to read, and now he called her Lady Yuna, like some strange summoner newly come to their island.
Had they been so distant with her when she had been newly named a summoner? Yuna tried to remember. They had been shocked at Tidus, she remembered that, but the celebration had been a blur of exhaustion after so long in the chamber of the Fayth.
Like the outside of the Temple, the Cloister of Trials seemed oddly small and simple after the other temples she had visited. It still required great concentration on her part, of course, for even without the threat of lightning, ice, or fire the Cloister was nothing to be treated lightly. But a part of her was slightly disappointed that she had found this so difficult at the start of her pilgrimage.
This time when the door to the Chamber of the Fayth opened, Tidus followed her into the room. She feared she might have to dance for hours again to gain the Fayth's attention, but it revealed itself almost immediately.
She made the gesture of prayer.
The boy-Fayth nodded to both of them. He seemed less bitter, somehow, but also more sad. Yet there was a tinge of hope to his expression as he tilted his head back to look up at them.
When he spoke, the cadence of his voice echoed in her ears like the pounding of the surf on the shore. "Sin is cursed. Sin prays. It curses its form, it prays for dissolution. Sin sees dreams of its own destruction. Sin is looking at us. We live in a fading echo of time left us by the destroyer. Free him from Yu Yevon. Free him--the fayth that has become Sin."
"How do I free him?" Yuna asked quickly, even as he began to fade away. She reached out toward him, and suddenly two spheres appeared in her hands. One glowed softly white and felt like Cure magic, while the other was surprisingly slippery and difficult to grip. Beside her, Tidus juggled a handful of potion vials.
"That didn't tell us much," he muttered.
Yuna shook her head. Tidus might not have seen the resignation on the Fayth's face when he turned away, but she had. The Fayth knew what it was asking of her.
She hoped she could rise to the challenge.
Rating: G
Contains: Spoilers
Notes: Other chapters found here.
Wordcount: 1280 this chapter.
Summary: Five scenes from a summoner's training at Besaid Temple.
Beta:
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Yuna watched Besaid grow larger through the front windows of the Celsius. It seemed strange, now, to return home after she had already said her goodbyes. The little island seemed impossibly small in the midst of the wide blue ocean. She had not dared to ask that they might come here first, but it seemed Tidus had known anyway, as it had been his first suggestion.
If she had to say goodbye a second time, she preferred to do it at the beginning, not the end.
She stood quietly on the bridge, her hands clasped in front of her. Rikku kept casting her curious looks, but for now the allure of new machina was more powerful than her curiosity about Yuna’s state of mind. Yuna was grateful for that. The other guardians kept their own counsel, and she was grateful for that too.
She watched Besaid grow larger as they approached, and wondered what welcome she would find from the Fayth there. Already she had turned her back on the Temple that had shaped her entire life. Though Shelinda had granted them absolution (at the cost, once again of the Al Bhed—something Yuna intended to do something about when she completed her pilgrimage), Yuna still felt keenly her own betrayal of all that she had been taught. Maester Mika’s reaction had been proof enough of that.
“You won’t get there looking back,” Lulu said, almost absently. Her gaze was locked on the blue sword Tidus still carried, the sword that had once been Wakka’s gift to Chappu.
“I know.” Yuna’s fingers fiddled at the edge of her long sweeping sleeves. Over the course of their journey, the fine embroidered robes she'd been given as the Summoner's Gift had become ragged at the edges, stained by travel and worn thin. Yuna knew it was defeatist, but she felt that her dream of being a summoner had become as tattered and worn as her garments. It had seemed so simple in Besaid—never easy, for to walk into one's own death with open eyes and head held high was not easy—but simple. She would sacrifice herself for Spira, and the people would have another taste of peace. Perhaps, if she had been very faithful to the teachings, that peace would last forever.
The Eternal Calm. Yuna's lips shaped the words soundlessly. It had been her dream since she'd waved farewell to her father from the dock at Besaid ten years ago. Valefor's Fayth had confirmed it when she prayed in Besaid at the beginning of her journey. Oh, he had made no promises, the boy who was a Fayth (or perhaps the Fayth who was a boy), but he had granted her the power to try.
Yuna ran her fingers over the embroidery on her sleeves. Her father had named her for Lady Yunalesca, that most revered and famous of the High Summoners, who had created the Final Aeon. Lady Yunalesca had been the first to stop Sin, however temporarily.
Yuna intended to be the last. Unlike her namesake, she was not content with a short span of peace and a lie spun out over centuries.
Yuna glanced at Sir Auron, who stood sentinel by the front window. She wondered if he felt relief that Lady Yunalesca had been slain, or if he was only tired, or something else entirely.
Rikku finally stopped trying to crawl underneath the pieces of machina that lined the—walls?—of the Celsius and came to join her. "Are you okay, Yunie?" she asked.
Smiling even when she felt sad was habit by now. Yuna curved the corners of her mouth upward. "I'll be fine, Rikku."
"We can do it!" Rikku said firmly.
"I know we can." The smile felt a little less false now. It was hard to be sad around Rikku.
"We're there!" Cid announced, and Yuna felt an odd shuddering in the ship as Cid brought it into—did an airship dock? She didn't know the terminology, though she'd spent half her life around boats; this was another thing altogether.
They disembarked and made their way to the temple. It was very strange to tread the same path she had walked so many times before, but this time as an outsider rather than a girl of the village. Yuna wasn't really welcomed as she had hoped she might be, but she wasn't surprised, either. Besaid was a very traditional town, and she had transgressed against Yevon. Forgiven or not, it was a great deal for them to overcome, even for the girl they had raised as a village.
Perhaps especially for her.
Yuna kept her smile locked firmly in place as she walked. It got easier when she saw something she remembered fondly, and harder when someone looked away rather than meet her eyes. She sensed the tension in her guardians, but none of them spoke—not even Tidus or Wakka. Rikku, after the first person was obviously torn between respecting a guardian and sneering at an Al Bhed, took to slinking in the center of their group, where she would be less visible between Kimahri's furry bulk and Auron's flowing coat.
The temple seemed almost tiny, after the massive pile of stone in Djose and the towering structures of Bevelle. The priest who bowed them in had taught Yuna how to read, and now he called her Lady Yuna, like some strange summoner newly come to their island.
Had they been so distant with her when she had been newly named a summoner? Yuna tried to remember. They had been shocked at Tidus, she remembered that, but the celebration had been a blur of exhaustion after so long in the chamber of the Fayth.
Like the outside of the Temple, the Cloister of Trials seemed oddly small and simple after the other temples she had visited. It still required great concentration on her part, of course, for even without the threat of lightning, ice, or fire the Cloister was nothing to be treated lightly. But a part of her was slightly disappointed that she had found this so difficult at the start of her pilgrimage.
This time when the door to the Chamber of the Fayth opened, Tidus followed her into the room. She feared she might have to dance for hours again to gain the Fayth's attention, but it revealed itself almost immediately.
She made the gesture of prayer.
The boy-Fayth nodded to both of them. He seemed less bitter, somehow, but also more sad. Yet there was a tinge of hope to his expression as he tilted his head back to look up at them.
When he spoke, the cadence of his voice echoed in her ears like the pounding of the surf on the shore. "Sin is cursed. Sin prays. It curses its form, it prays for dissolution. Sin sees dreams of its own destruction. Sin is looking at us. We live in a fading echo of time left us by the destroyer. Free him from Yu Yevon. Free him--the fayth that has become Sin."
"How do I free him?" Yuna asked quickly, even as he began to fade away. She reached out toward him, and suddenly two spheres appeared in her hands. One glowed softly white and felt like Cure magic, while the other was surprisingly slippery and difficult to grip. Beside her, Tidus juggled a handful of potion vials.
"That didn't tell us much," he muttered.
Yuna shook her head. Tidus might not have seen the resignation on the Fayth's face when he turned away, but she had. The Fayth knew what it was asking of her.
She hoped she could rise to the challenge.