Saidan no Hitsuji

Chapter Eleven: Never Ever

By Seishuku Skuld (skuldchan@gmail.com)

Edited by Tsukiyono Omi (omi_tenshi@hotmail.com)

Hey everybody! Sorry for making you wait so long for this installment! I had a bad case of hosage and writer's block! Thanks for following my fic all this way through! It's almost over, it's been hard work! Here we skip a lot of time, I figure that I shouldn't recapitulate the game because we've all played it! There's just some particularly poignant memories for Auron here, so I figured I should write it.

Thanks for reading! Minna-san!

This fic is dedicated to all those wonderful Japanese fanartists/doujin circles out there, whose pictures give me so much inspiration!

Studio Wild Works, Diabolism, Elastic Plastic, and D-AMB just to name a few! You guys totally rule! ^_^

****

Zanarkand is the center of everything. It is a ruinous vortex, a great collapsing spiral which circles into death. Its pull reaches out in fiendish tendrils, snatching the unwary to their inevitable fate. Zanarkand is a siren, whose call tears at the hearts of every hopeful summoner and guardian in Spira.

So I find myself in Zanarkand again. It is always at the end of every journey. I stand atop Mount Gagazet, my eye raking the rubble of the once-great city I lived in for ten years, a city whose people never slept, endless lights glowing across the skyline, a city that was ever-changing, never the same. But it sleeps quietly in its death as I stare at it, the sun setting, the children behind me.

Tidus looks over the ruins of his home, the world he knew, the world he had grown up in. This confirmed what the fayth undoubtedly told him: he is a dream. He is probably thinking the same thing Jecht had thought, in that very spot, in a time that now seems so indistinct and far away.

I close my eyes, the wind ruffling my hair, blowing my silver streaks like small tufts of grass. I can feel the death in this city, feel the power contained within it, the memories of all who had died here in a thousand years. It is a burden, that grisly type of knowledge. The children feel it, but they do not know it, and it does not weigh on them as much as it does me.

They are different. There is something in them I have never seen before. Tidus is determined, he doesn't know what to do or how to do it, but only that he must do something. He knows he must stop his father, ease the rule of terror he holds over Spira. Yuna is young, iron-willed, and independent though she follows in the footsteps of her father. She knows the fate of the summoner, what price she has to pay. But there is a shadow of doubt in her heart, and she knows I am hiding something.

As for the others, they stand steadfastly by their summoner. They are her friends, and mine. We share adventures, our own laughs and things to talk and brag about. There is a sense of purpose in their step, a confidence that everything will be fine. They do not want to see their summoner die. They are not resigned to her fate, as Jecht and I had been. We knew Braska would die, but we did nothing. We did not stop him. They would try to stop Yuna, I knew, especially that young Al Bhed girl. She at least, is not going to give up on Yuna without a fight. That was some measure of comfort.

The children have what Jecht and I didn't, Yuna has what Braska didn't. We resigned, we gave up, but they still hold onto their little rebelliousness, though some of them aren't aware of it.

We rest in the same place that Jecht, Braska and I had chanced upon in our journey. They rest their weapons where ours were ten years ago. They sit around their fire silently, each thinking, pondering, reminiscing. Waiting for night to fall when they would enter Zanarkand.

I sit apart from them, just slightly. Zanarkand has more of a meaning to me than any of them. I remember so vividly the last time Jecht held me, when we sat on the dusty ground, weary from our travels. Jecht had held me with an urgency that I'd never felt from him. I was young and naïve at the time, I hadn't sensed what he already knew. Then I came to realize, over the years, as I turned the events over and over in my head, that Jecht had known he was going to his death. He hadn't told me, he hadn't wanted to bring me unnecessary pain. He had kept the knowledge to himself, and just held me tightly, his arm around my waist, my head on his shoulder as I slipped into a light sleep.

I close my eyes, breathing the stale air of Zanarkand deep inside my tortured body. It yearns, I yearn to be with Jecht again. That small short time, when Sin took me back to Spira was pure, untarnished bliss. A little promise of heaven. Then I awakened in Luca, and Jecht, Sin was gone. More than anything now, I want to be by his side again. Those few months we had were the happiest I'd ever known. I want that time back.

I look up from my brooding and can almost feel his strong, firm arms around me again, his calloused hand gently caressing my cheek, stroking my hair. I feel Sin's presence close by, Jecht watches our moves closely now that we have arrived in Zanarkand.

I know, he knows what the children have to do. I know what I will see in the Zanarkand dome, I have to prepare myself for a trip through my most painful memories.

When night falls, we get to our feet and make our way to the Dome. The road is the same: fallen, cracked. We scramble over the rubble, following the winding path to its destination.

The same old priest greets us at the door, with nearly the same words he had greeted Braska before. He asks for Yuna's eyes and our journey, and sends us on our way to Lady Yunalesca.

The inside of the Dome too, is exactly as I remember it. Macabre pyreflies with their memories, their dark messages; guardians who gave their lives for their summoners, hoping to rid Spira of the plague of Sin. We see young Seymour and his mother, who sacrificed herself to become a fayth, to dream a powerful Aeon that could defeat Sin. Countless other guardians, remnant memories of warrior-monks of old, attack us out of their blind rage. And then, there is us.

::Hey Braska, you don't have to do this.::

::Thank you for your concern.::

::All right, I've said my piece.::

::Well, I haven't!::

I remember each word we said, I recite our lines perfectly in my head, a shadow play full of fury and lies. I don't want see to this again, it is too real, too painful. I don't want see Jecht try to convince Braska to give up, knowing he would fail, that they would both die. It wrenches my stomache, and I fight hard to keep my composure.

::Braska, let's go back. I don't...I don't...I don't want to see you die!::

::But you knew this would happen, my dear friend.::

Yes, I knew. I had felt it, from the time he told me he was going to be a summoner and save Spira. But even then, and even now, it is hard to accept. Hard to accept that Braska is in the Farplane, gone forever from Spira, present only in his daughter's remembrance, his cold statue in Besaid, and in the pyreflies that are left us. But more painful than Braska's absence is the void left by Jecht.

::Yes, but I still cannot accept it.::

::You are still such a child Auron.:: And I can still see the haunting smile on his face, the sad look in his eyes when he said that to me.

::Auron, I am honored that you care so much for me. But I have come to kill grief itself.::

"You came to the wrong place then, Braska," I whisper, my words melting away, vanishing into my collar. Though I love Jecht with ever fiber of my being, I still have to steel myself against Braska's words. After all these years, they still pain me, the futility of his sacrifice, and the hundred before him.

::I will defeat Sin and lift the veil of sorrow covering Spira. Please understand, Auron.::

But in the end, it was Braska who didn't understand, who couldn't accept the truth for what it was: the lies fed to us for a millennium, the religion of Yevon which poisoned the people of Spira.

I hate Yevon, hate him for what he is doing to Jecht, for the pleasure he feels at inflicting at torture upon Spira. I hate Yunalesca for placating him, for teaching us how to feed him. She is the first step to his defeat

::Yes, Braska.::

I had given up so easily. I curse myself, wondering why I didn't fight. If I had pleaded more...I shake my head. It's no use musing over the word 'perhaps.' My 'if's will never be answered. It is now all up to the children.

***

We approach the chamber of Yunalesca, we find the remains of Lord Zaon, nothing but chill, lifeless stone.

"Wait!" Tidus calls out to me, his lower lip in a frown, his brows crossed, eyes determined. "You knew this was going to happen, didn't you?" His hope is crushed. All those stories about the Final Aeon, the Final Summoning that saves Spira and brings the Calm. But he does not yet know everything.

"Why didn't you tell us?" asks Rikku, she too angry.

"If I had told you the truth," I reply levelly, "would that have stopped you from coming?" They need to see with their own eyes, they need to hear the deceit that blankets Spira. I watch them closely, each of them, waiting for their responses. Would they fight, or would they give up as easily as Jecht and I had? I hope for the former. Jecht's hopes, Spira's hopes rest squarely on their shoulders.

"Yuna," Kimahri utters a warning.

The girl shakes her head, "I am not going back," she says, approaching the blue barrier, the door to the room with the red velvet carpet, where the seductress Yunalesca waits, sugar-coating her magic with deception and a devilish smile.

"Kimahri knows. Kimahri goes first. Yuna is safe. Kimahri protect."

***

"Welcome to Zanarkand," the Lady Yunalesca says, standing at the top of the staircase, her shimmering cloak of pyreflies about her. She is smiling, she is seducing. She tries to put us at ease, lower our resistance. "I congratulate you, summoner. You have completed your pilgrimage. I will now bestow you with that which you seek: the Final Summoning...will be yours." She walks slowly down the stairs, chanting her age-old mantra of false comfort.

"Now choose. You must choose the one I will change...to become the fayth of the Final Summoning."

The children gasp, this is unexpected. I wonder if Yunalesca recognizes me, but she hardly affords me a glance. I stare at her with hatred, her scantily clad corpse, her words hissing with the power of coiled serpents hidden behind them.

"There must be a bond, between chosen and summoner, for that is what the Final Summoning embodies:the bond between husband and wife, mother and child, or between friends. If that bond is strong enough, its light will conquer Sin."

I could laugh. She knows well that Sin cannot be conquered. It can be chained for a period of time, it can be broken, but not destroyed. But she doesn't say that just yet.

"A thousand years ago, I chose my husband Zaon as my fayth. Our bond was true, and I obtained the Final Aeon. There is nothing to fear." She stretchs out her hand to us, graceful even in death. "You will soon be freed of worry and pain. For once you call forth the Final Aeon, your life will end. Death is the ultimate and final liberation. Your father, Braska, chose this path."

She turns and walks away, waiting for us to decide. I bite my lip, the rage welling up inside of me again, summoning images of another time in this dead temple.

::No! It's not too late! Let's go back!::

::If I turn back, who will defeat Sin?::

Not you, Braska, I admit quietly. You didn't defeat Sin, you created a new Sin. It was useless, his life, his death. It all surmounted to a lie that Yunalesca spoon-fed us like helpless infants. I hate it. I hate her.

:: Would you have some other summoner and his guardians die in my stead? Would you have the people of Spira wait while Sin ravaged their villages? Would you have more innocents die?::

::But there must be some other way!::

::Auron, this is the only way we got now.::

The words still crash upon me, I watch my face, my younger counterpart, contort with disbelief. I listen to his words, his voice as the pyreflies remember it.

::Fine. Make me the fayth. I've been doing some thinking. I've left my dream in the old Zanarkand. I wanted to make my son into a star blitz player, but you know, that's past now. I wanted to live with you, Auron, I wanted to see Spira happy and carefree, no more pain. No more pain for Braska, you, or me. I wanted to erase suffering from your life. But that's not going to come true either.::

:: No, Jecht!::

And I almost say it again, my lips moving in a mute whisper. There is still pain, I feel it every day that he isn't with me. There is still suffering in Spira, Sin had destroyed countless Crusaders and Al Bhed at Mi'hen, demolished half of Kilika Village, leaving heaps and wreckage and corpses behind him. How ironic that Jecht has become what he joined Braska to fight.

::I can't live without you...::

And that much was true too. How I managed to keep myself together for ten years, I don't know. I died for Jecht and relived for him. I raised his son and brought him here to Zanarkand. I tremble, knowing what words are coming.

:: Make me the fayth, Braska. I'll fight sin with you, Braska. Then my life will have meaning.::

A shudder rips through my body, tearing my breath away. I wish for a second that this would end, but I know it something the children must see.

::What are you talking about? Don't do this, Jecht! If you die...I won't...there must be some other way!::

::Believe me, I've thought this through already.::

I watch him approach my younger self, caress the cheek of my spectre. It is a touch I yearn for, a touch I haven't felt in a time-stretching eternity. The sadness wells up in me again, but I kept it at bay. I am hardened, more experienced than the boy I been then. The children watch our exchange, transfixed by its meaning. They know now what price I paid to bring them here.

::Besides, I ain't getting any younger, so I might as well make myself useful.::

::Jecht.:: It is Braska who speaks, and my thoughts jump. The pyreflies have left something out, they have forgotten the promise I made Jecht. They forgot Jecht's words and our last kiss, the sweetest part in the midst of the pain. I swallow my breath, clamp down on my anger as it continues to build. I need to use it for the inevitable battle ahead.

::Are you going to stop me, Braska?::

::Sorry. I just meant...thank you.::

::Braska still has to fight Sin, Auron. Guard him well, make sure he gets there. Braska, let's go.::

And he went, and the pyreflies shimmer, the illusion disappearing.

"And so the cycle went on," I finish sadly. Jecht, my lover, who had said he would find a way to break it. I feel him outside, patiently waiting for the events of passage within this dismal tomb.

"We'll break it," Tidus exclaims, confirming my hopes.

"But how?" Wakka asks. He is young, he is naïve and he believes in the teachings of Yevon. This whole thing seems ludicrous to him, something out of a nightmare, terrible and unimaginable. "What, you got a plan now?"

"If one of us has to become a fayth..." Lulu, the young woman speaks. She has guarded two failed summoners previously. They had been her life, long ago, and now she is almost as bitter as I am. Almost. "I volunteer."

"Me too, Yuna," Wakka adds, eager to aid his summoner in whatever way possible.

"That still won't change anything, you know?" Tidus protests his comrades' actions, "you'd bring the Calm, and then what? That won't break the cycle." His resolve is plain in his voice, his willpower touches me and brings me hope.

"Listen..." Wakka responds, trying to explain to Tidus. He thinks he has accepted Spira's fate "You wanna defeat Sin and keep Yuna alive? You don't want to come back, ya? That is just not gonna happen, brudda, you know?"

"If you want everything, you'll end up with nothing," Lulu cautions.

"But I want everything!" Tidus insists, unwilling to let go of his ideals, clinging to them still. He wants to destroy Sin, he wants to save Yuna, he doesn't want to see death any longer.

"Now you're being childish."

Tidus sighs. "I give up. So what would an adult do then? They know they can just throw away a summoner, then they can do whatever they like." I feel the despair rising in his chest, and I am surprised and proud he doesn't burst into tears. He has grown much.

"You're right, I might not even have a chance," he continues. "But no way am I gonna just stand here and let Yuna go." He turns to look at me, and I nod my support of him. "And what Auron said about there being a way...I think it's true."

"You'll think of something," Rikku asks hopefully.

"I don't know," Tidus shakes his head, "but I have to try. This is my story. It'll go the way I want it...or I'll end it here." His obstinacy makes me smile beneath my collar. He will not let me down, he will not disappoint Jecht's or Spira's hopes. I find that comforting, it eases my pain slightly.

"Wait," Yuna speaks to us before she walks into the door that contains the endless night. "You say it's your story, but it's my story too, you know? It would be easy...to let my fate just carry me away...following this same path my whole life through." She signs, closes her eyes, and I know what she intends when she finds the complete truth. She is ready to accept it, whatever it may be. "But I know I can't. What I do, I do...with no regrets."

She runs up the stairs, the velvet soft beneath her boots, and we follow her through the doors. I remember the night, the stars in the sky, the intimidating dark infinity of that room. The room where Jecht died, where Yunalesca killed me with her magic. She faces away from us for a moment, lost in the stars. She pulls herself back in to consciousness when we enter.

"Have you chosen the one to become your fayth?" she asks in her deep, sultry voice. "Who will it be?"

"Might I ask something first," Yuna begins a little timidly, curious but shy of the truth. "Will Sin come back even should I use the Final Summoning to defeat it?"

"Sin is eternal," comes her response. Yunalesca may hide the truth, but she does not lie. I know her words, I know what she is going to tell us. Our entire world, built upon lies she preached to us. I know what the children will do, I feel my fury consuming my body.

"Every aeon that defeats it becomes Sin in its place...and thus is Sin reborn."

"So that's why Jecht became Sin," Tidus murmurs to himself, not surprised.

"Sin is an inevitable part of Spira's destiny. It is neverending."

"Neverending?" exclaims Wakka, the teachings of Yevon blazing through his mind. "But...but...if we atone for our crimes, Sin will stop coming back, ya. Someday, it'll be gone, ya?" Finally, the truth sinks in, seeps into their souls, and they believe it, told by the first high summoner herself.

"Will humanity ever attain such purity?" Yunalesca asks sadly. Wakka flounders for an answer.

"This...this cannot be!" Lulu protests in dismay. "The teachings state that we can exorcise Sin with complete atonement!" She is crushed by Yunalesca's words, the reality of Spira permeating her thoughts. "It's been our only hope, all these years," she finishes sadly, lost in disbelief.

"Hope..." Yunalesca smiles, "is comfortin. It allows us to accept fate, however tragic it might be."

"No!" Her words still stir something within me, the anger boiling over my fragile control as my mind flies to the last time I heard her speak.

My feelings summon the pyrefiles, they project my last memories to the children. Yunalesca suddenly recognizes me.

::Where is the sense in all this? Braska believed in Yevon's teachings and died for them! Jecht believed in Braska and gave his life for him!::

::They chose to die...because they had hope.::

I watch myself charge the phantom Yunalesca, filled with unspeakable despair. I am no longer that naïve, but watching my down deathblow still strikes my heart. I see her blast, she lifts a pale arm casually to dispatch me. My sword flies from my grasp, landing solidly in the platform we stood on. The children watch silently, wide-eyed in astonishment as they witness my death.

Yunalesca dismisses the memory, it is nothing to her, the same way she believes that we are nothing to her. "Yevon's teachings and the Final Summoning give the people of Spira hope. Without hope, they would drown in their sorrow. Now," she stares straight at Yuna, "choose. Who will be your fayth? Who will be the one to renew Spira's hope?"

We are all silent, holding our breaths as Yuna makes her decision. This is the moment that will rule all Spira to come. This is the moment where Jecht and my hopes either come true, or utterly fail.

"No one," Yuna finally says resolutely, without a trace of doubt or uncertainty. "I would have gladly died. I live for the people of Spira and would have gladly died for them." She shakes her head, gathering herself, trying not to weep for the futility of her father's sacrifice. "But no more! The Final Summoning...is a false tradition that would be thrown away."

"No," Yunalesca is surprised confused. She has never met with opposition. "It is our only hope," she insists. "Your father sacrificed himself to give that hope to the people. So they would forget sorrow."

"Wrong," Yuna says. "My father...my father wanted...to make Spira's sorrow go away. Not just cover it up with lies!"

"Sorrow cannot be abolished," Yunalesca replies, "it is meaningless to try."

"My father...I love him," Yuna continues sadly. She remembers Braska with such fondness. "So I...I will live with my sorrow! I will live my own life! I will defeat sorrow in his place!"

Now I know that everyting I have hoped and waited for...everything was well-placed in these children. Ten years ago I would never have known that little Yuna, who jumped on the bed I shared with Jecht, would grow into the strong, dependable woman she is now.

"I will stand my ground and be strong. I don't know when it'll be, but someday, I will conquer it. And I will do it without false hope!"

"Poor creature," Yunalesca croons, pity and madness burning in her eyes. "You would throw away hope." I can feel her wrath building, her eyes narrowing as her voice turns hard as cold steel.

"Well, I will free you before you can drown in your sorrow. It is better for you to die in hope than to live in despair." She rises into the air, readying her magic. "Let me be your liberator!"

I rush forward, eager to join in battle. She is the first step to the destruction of Yevon, and Jecht's freedom.

"Now! This is it!" I say to them, at the forefront of the fight. This is my revenge, my duty to Spira, my devotion to Jecht. "Now is the time to choose! Die and be free of pain or live and fight your sorrow! Now is the time to shape your stories! Your fate is in your hands!"

These are the last chapters of my story, the penultimate of my ten years as the living dead. From here, the rest is decided, our fight with Yunalesca is the beginning, and it will end when Sin is destroyed, never to be reborn again. Never ever.