The disclaimers and what not:

The lyrics for this songfic are by Sting.  The song "Desert Rose" may be found on the album Brand New Day.  The lyrics at the start are a translation of the Arabic sung by Cheb Mami. I don't think either will mind me borrowing them as inspiration for a romance.

Braska, Rin, Cid, the Al Bhed, the Al Bhed language, and other concepts are creations of SquareSoft for Final Fantasy X.  The plot, ancillary characters, and names are my own.  No copyright infringement is intended.  No money, no harm, no foul.

Some Al Bhed phases are littered through this fic.  You can look it up yourself at http://www.pixelscapes.com/twoflower/albhed.html

Or you can refer to the translations here…

Oui sicd pa y dnuipmasygan.  Oui'na ymfyoc eh rana uh ouin ghaac: You must be a troublemaker.  You're always in here on your knees. 
Fa yna cdyoehk ujan hekrd.  Chayg uid.: We are staying over night.  Sneak out.
Ev oui ajan taletat du mayja [Braska], oui ryja y bmyla fedr ic.: If you ever decide to leave [Braska], you have a place with us.
Jano vihho.: Very funny.
Bid ed yfyo.: Put it away.
[Cid], E ys cu cunno.  Fryd syo E tu?  Damm sa.: [Cid], I am so sorry.  What may I do?  Tell me.
Oui'ja kud y mud uv hanja, crufehk ib mega drec yvdan ymm draca oaync.: You've got a lot of nerve, showing up like this after all these years.
Oui cruimt rayn fryd drao lymm sa huf!: You should hear what they call me now!
Oui mavd drec pareht.  E gabd ed vun oui.: You left this behind.  I kept it for you.
Fryd eh dra ramm tu oui drehg oui'na tuehk?: What in the hell do you think you're doing?
Bmayca, tuh'd lno.  E uhmo fyhd oui du pa rybbo - du veht cusauha amca.: Please, don't cry.  I only want you to be happy - to find someone else.
Drana ryc hajan paah yhouha amca vun sa.  Drana hajan femm pa.: There has never been anyone else for me.  There never will be.
[Cid], banrybc E ryja hud syta dra cediydeuh lmayn.  Yd drec buehd, dra lanasuho femm pa pid y vunsymedo.: [Cid], perhaps I have not made the situation clear.  At this point, the ceremony will be but a formality.
Ouin lmudrehk.: Your clothing.
Hu, so muja.  E nyh yfyo.: No, my love.  I ran away.
Muja: Love
Ymfyoc so muja.  Ymfyoc.: Always, my love.  Always.

~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~
Notes:

Well, I can't say I think I'm great at writing romance.  The first half of this fic came to me in a huge rush about a month ago.  I've been struggling with the end of it ever since.  It turned into an epic of a tale at over 10,000 words and I am finally sick of working on it.  I've decided to post it up for feedback.  I think it's a bit rushed in the last two "sections" but would love to hear your comments on it.  Perhaps I'll get back to this one some day and make it something really good.

~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~~*~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
* My Desert Rose *
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~
It has been a long time
I am looking for myself, my love
I am looking for myself, my love
I am looking for myself, my love
My life is for you
You are my life
There is nothing else but you
Only you
~~~~~

"Father, who are those people?"

Braska sat on a rock outside the Djose temple.  His lessons for the day were over.  The Young boy was helping his father gather plants that would be dried and become the base ingredients for potions.  His small legs dangled in the air beneath his long white robes and he kicked them back and forth.

"Where?"  Gareth looked up and watched as his son's small hand pointed in the direction of the heathen shop.  A group of men in strange clothing were unloading boxes from a machina vehicle.  "They are Al Bhed, son," he said.

"Al Bhed?"  Braska's face held an expression of youthful curiosity and confusion.

"Yes.  They are unbelievers," the even tenor of Gareth's voice patiently explained.  "They do not follow the Teachings of Yevon."

Braska's small face formed a concentrated frown.  "Why not?"

Laughing, Gareth set down the basket in his hands.  He turned and scooped his son up off the rock and into his arms.  "Ever full of questions, my boy!  What shall I do with you?"  He swung the child out in a circle and Braska giggled, his short legs lifting off the ground. 

Finally, Gareth sat the child down and smiled softly.  His bright blue eyes were a mirror image of his son's.  Handing the basket to his boy, he said, "Run inside to your mother, Braska.  She will want these."

Beaming, Braska nodded and did as he was told – his question seemingly forgotten.

~~~~~
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
~~~~~

A youth leaned against the entry of the temple and watched as an older bald man and two young boys about his age moved back and forth between the shop and the hovercraft.  Head tilted to the side, his mid-length silver hair flew a round his head from the ever present electric charge in the air.  The smell of ozone was strong, as though the sky might burst into downpour at any moment.  No Summoner was present in the Chamber of the Fayth and the temple was 'closed' – the protective rock shell held to the metallic body of the building by magnetic force. 

Blue eyes watched intently.  The Al Bhed fascinated him.

"Braska!"

Head whipping toward the doorway, he stopped leaning against the stone and turned to face the speaker.  "Yes, father?" 

"Come in."  Gareth's voice was stern.  "You have not completed your studies.  The notebooks must be finished and you must put away the scrolls in the library."

Braska sighed.  He wanted to speak to the Al Bhed boys.  The only other acolytes at the temple were much younger and he had little in common with the youngest of the dedicated.  All of them were training to be warrior monks and Braska was learning the healing arts.  It was lonely, having no one his own age to talk to or play with when his day was through.  He loved his parents, but it wasn't the same.

"Yes, Father."

Dutifully, Braska turned his back to the Al Bhed and went back inside.  His father shut the temple door behind them.

~~~~~
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
~~~~~

"We love you very much, Braska."

Gareth stood in front of his son in a long black cloak.  The white haired mage held carried a leather travel bag and something that, to an untrained person, might have seemed to be a child's toy.   The Cait Sith clung to its master and held an identical expression of sorrow.

A woman holding a tall staff and wearing a long white dress and sapphire overcoat knelt in front of the twelve-year-old boy.  Tears shimmered in her green eyes.  "Be a good boy.  Mind your teachers and study hard."  A slender and graceful hand stroked the long silver hair – now taking on a tinge of blue. 

"Branwyn, it is time."

The woman nodded, her short blue hair swinging around her fine boned face.  In a sudden motion, she reached out and pulled Braska close in a tight embrace.  Tears fell down the boy's face and he clung to his mother's neck as she whispered harshly, "I will always love you, Braska.  Always!"

Then, just as suddenly as she had clasped the boy to her, she released him and stood up.  Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her son.  It seemed to Braska that she became taller as she straightened.  An air of regal authority and grace settled on her.  "Remember, you are the son of a Summoner.  You must set an example for all others and be a light to the people."

Braska choked back his tears and nodded rapidly.  Finally, he said,  "I will.  I promise."

Branwyn nodded sharply and turned her back on her son.  The stately woman walked away from the temple and down the path, leaving Braska behind.

Reaching forward, Gareth ruffled his son's hair lightly.  "Don't cry, son.  She does this for you.  So do I."  He bent and placed a quick kiss on the top of Braska's head and then moved to follow his wife.

~~~~~
I dream of fire
Those dreams are tied to a horse that will never tire
~~~~~

He was in trouble again.

Braska knew his parents would have been disappointed.  He was waxing the entryway floor by hand for the third time this week.  He didn't mean to do things.  It just seemed to happen.  He was forever oversleeping and missing his kata lessons.  They just seemed so dull and uninteresting compared to his books.  He would begin to read after the evening meal and loose all track of time.  Falling asleep at his desk, he would often wake with a start and then scramble to make it to his alchemy class. 

Sighing, he moved the small cloth in rhythmic circles across the inlaid stone floor.  He looked wistfully at the statues of the Summoners and High Summoners that filled the hall.  His parents left on pilgrimage three years ago and he still missed them terribly. 

"Oui sicd pa y dnuipmasygan.  Oui'na ymfyoc eh rana uh ouin ghaac."

At the sound of the voice, Braska's head jerked up.  A young man with a shorn sort blond mowhawk and eye goggles was standing in the doorway of the temple entrance.  The Al Bhed was staring down at Braska with a look of amusement on his face. 

"You shouldn't be inside," Braska said nervously.  His heart was pounding.  "Leave."

The young man put his hands on his hips and grinned.  "Scared, Braska?"

"Cid, we will both get in trouble!"

"Yevonites!" Cid started to turn and go.  He tossed over his shoulder, "Fa yna cdyoehk ujan hekrd.  Chayg uid."

Braska huffed a bit and said quietly, "I will try."

Later that night, Braska did sneak out.  Djose was a quiet country temple and little of note ever happened.  The guards were far more interested in the activities of fiends on the roads than the movements of an acolyte after dark.  Sticking close to the shadows and waiting for the men to become engrossed in conversation or the odd card game, Braska found it easy to slip out the door that lead to the gardens whenever Cid and Rin were at the shop. 

Intrigued by the Al Bhed since he was small, and terribly lonely after the loss of his parents, he had approached Cid and his friend Rin one day.  After a few gruff and awkward encounters, curiosity overcame all three boys and they began sneaking around behind the adult's backs to get to know one another.  It was thrilling.  All of them knew they would get in terrible trouble if they were caught together, but it only seemed to make it more fun.  They asked questions and learned each other's languages.  They tussled, fought, and argued.  Cid was opinionated and challenged Braska on every point of the Teachings he knew.  Braska smiled softly and patiently tried to explain what he could.  Rin spent his time curiously listening to them both and keeping the two from blows when discussions got too heated.  All in all, it was a wonderful friendship.

"Here."  Cid had a small blue ball in his hand and shoved it at Braska. 

"What is it?"  Braska turned over and over in his hands, fascinated. 

Rin answered the question, "It's a recording sphere.  You asked what Home looked like so we took some pictures for you."

"Really!"  Braska was beside himself with excitement.

"No, it's a lie you twit."  Cid was picking on him.

Braska ignored it.  "How does it work?" 

Cid started to grab the ball and Rin stepped in.  "You place it on a flat surface and press the little indention on the side.  If you slide your hand over the surface, you'll feel it."  The younger Al Bhed bent over the sphere, his mid-length blond hair falling forward, and pushed at the side of the sphere.   A small hum emitted from the thing and it began to glow. 

Braska's eyes opened wide in amazement as he watched small life-like figures appear above the orb and begin to move.  "Rin! That's your father," he exclaimed.

"SHHHHH!" Cid clapped a hand over Braska's mouth.  "You're gonna wake people up!"

Clamping his mouth shut under Cid's hand, Braska nodded swiftly.  Cid let go and Braska leaned forward to peer at the images being displayed before him.  A bright sun beat down as women and children walked on a golden background.  There was a pond of some sort with a few trees of a type that Braska had never seen.  Machina were everywhere and clusters of tents and small buildings were scattered about.  Braska was enthralled.

The scene changed.  It was much darker.  There was an unmade cot, a chest with a broken lock, and a pile of metal pieces scattered over something that Braska thought must be a workbench.  Cid leaned next to his ear and said, "That's my room."

"You are messy," Braska said.

Cid punched his arm.

The scene changed again.  A woman was standing in front of some kind of metal contraption as she hummed.  A young girl sat on the floor playing with a doll at the woman's feet.  Cid said, "That's my mom, Nalla, and my sister, Nyeh."

"You have a sister." Braska's voice took on a dreamy quality as he watched the woman and child.  It was clear to him now that they were in a kitchen.  The small girl giggled and laughed.  Instead of the blond hair he had seen on almost every other Al Bhed, the girl was brunette.  "Her name is Nyeh?  Doesn't that mean 'Rain'?"

Cid nodded.  He was kind of impressed.  One of the reasons he liked Braska was that he wasn't stuck up and judgmental like all the other Yevonites he'd ever met.  The would-be priest wanted to know about machina and how they worked instead of calling him a heathen and looking down on him.  "Yeah.  Dad called her that because it rained the day she was born."

The sphere started to flicker and then it turned off.  Braska made a sad little sighing noise.  "Is it over?"

Rin grinned at him.  "Yeah, that's all it would hold.  But you can watch it again.  Just push the button."

"Amazing!"  Braska slid a hand over the sphere, pushed the button, and it began again.

~~~~~
And in the flames
Her shadows play in the shape of a man's desire
~~~~~

"I believe that the Al Bhed are simply misinformed."

Braska stood before a group of priests in a small circular room.  It was a trial of censure.  He had been found in possession of unauthorized machina and Al Bhed dictionaries. 

"How can we expect them to obey the Teachings if we do not take the time to teach them?  Ridicule, blame, and ostracism will not resolve the problem.  We must show the Al Bhed love and compassion.  They are misguided.  They do not know better.  And are we not as much at fault for their blasphemy if we do nothing to try and correct it?"

The idealistic young man was not yet ordained. Though sometimes absent minded, the seventeen-year-old was talented and intelligent.  He was already a powerful healer.  The priests that sat before him in tribunal had high hopes for him and thought that, like his mother, he might have the power of Summoner.

"It is not for you to take upon yourself this type of endeavor.  You should have requested permission to study the language of the heathens instead of consorting with them in such a dishonest fashion.  It seems clear to us that you realized that your actions were wrong or you would not have hidden the materials in the bottom of a locker."

Braska bowed his head low in shame.  His parents would have been mortified.  He had not even been ordained yet and already he would have a black mark against his name.

Realizing he had nothing to lose, the young man drew himself up and said, "And what would you have said if I had made the request?  You would have told me "no."  You would have done so because the Church does not truly care about ALL of the people of Spira.  It is our responsibility, our duty, to atone.  Sin will never disappear until we do – ALL OF US.  How can we achieve this goal if we are in constant strife with the Al Bhed?"

"Braska!  That is enough!  You are dismissed.  The council will render its decision later today.  Until then, you are confined to your quarters.  You will open every locker, drawer, and space to inspection by the guard and they will search your belongings item by item to ensure that all of your contraband has been found."

"But!"

"ENOUGH!"

Escorted from the chamber, Braska sat in his room and waited for the guards to arrive.  Head in his hands, he wanted to cry.  All his precious books would be taken.  All the gifts and tokens he had collected from Cid and Rin over the years.  His dictionaries, notepads, tools, collection of circuits and his spheres.

His spheres!

No!

Of all the things he had ever been given, one he loved most.  Flying to the closet, he dug around on the back of a high shelf until the small blue orb was safe in his hand.  It was the sphere of Home.  The beautiful desert land full of machina where the Al Bhed lived called to him.  He longed to go there.  It was a place where it almost never rained and water was rationed.  A place of such heat that it could bake you alive if you walked for to long unsheltered from its rays.  A place with families – mothers and fathers, brothers and sisters.

They could take anything.  They could take the dictionaries, the circuits, the goggles, the gloves, the information pad, the global link, and could even take the other spheres.

They would not take this.

Clutching the small object close to his body, Braska's blue eyes darted around the room.  Where could he hide it?  Where would it be safe?

He heard voices in the hall.  The guards were coming.  Praying to Yevon he quickly moved to the bed.  He took a small knife, cut a slit in the sleeping mat, and shoved the small sphere deep inside the cotton ticking.  Then, he quickly flicked the sheet and blanket back over the rip, darted to put the knife in a pile of metal objects, and flew back to sit on the mattress.

The enormity of his transgression, the blatant disregard of a direct order from the temple priests, made Braska's heart race.  The door of his room swung open revealing four warrior monks.  Palms sweating, he sat there on the bed and waited.  He had never been so frightened in all his life.

~~~~~
This desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
~~~~~

"What do you mean they took it all!" 

Cid was mad.  He practically stomped as he paced back and forth.  It was very late and he had gone to the garden to meet Braska and give him some new books.

"I'm sorry.  I can't accept them."  Braska stood there with his head hanging.  He added the words he didn't want to say.  "I can't meet you anymore."

"This is stupid!"  Cid was fuming and hurt.  "You're a coward!  All this time, I thought you were different!  I thought you weren't like the rest of those judgmental narrow-minded bastards, but you're just the same!"

"Cid!"  Braska pleaded.  "It's just for a while.  I think.  I don't know.  They watch me now.  They even took," the young man's voice began to break a bit with emotion as he told Cid what happened.  "They took my Spheres!"

"They what?"  The young Al Bhed man's eyes flashed wide.  His voice was low and cold.  He was trembling but Braska thought it was out of anger.  "All of them?  Braska, you have to tell me now!"  Cid grabbed his friend by the shoulders roughly.  "Did they take the one of Home?!"

"No."  Braska, startled, pulled a small blue object from the pack on his shoulder.  "I saved it.  It was all I could manage."

Cid let out a heavy sigh of relief and snatched the thing from Braska's grasp.  "I can't let you keep it anymore, Braska."

"Why!"  He tried to grab the sphere from Cid.

"Because if they see it, they will know we're building a city.  They will know we're uniting."

"I don't understand."  Braska was heartbroken.

Cid made a clipped barking noise.  "Of course you don't!"  He jammed the small object in a deep pocket in his pants and zipped it closed.  "You never have.  Braska, they hate us.  If they knew we were rebuilding a nation and could find us, they'd kill us all."

"No!  They wouldn't!  It's against the Teachings."  Braska quickly came to the defense of his people.  "'Never take a human life.'  It is the first of all the laws."

"You really aren't like the rest of them, Braska."  Cid laughed bitterly.  "If they were all like you, I think it would be different.  We're not human to them."

The two young men stood there looking at one another.  In the last four years, they'd become so close.  Braska and Rin were friends too, but it was different.  The relationship he had with Cid was sometimes volatile but there was an unspoken kinship there.  Though they never said it, they were like brothers now.

"Ev oui ajan taletat du mayja [Braska], oui ryja y bmyla fedr ic." Cid said the words and then turned abruptly and walked away.  Braska just stood there and watched him go, heartbroken.

~~~~~
This desert flower
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
~~~~~

Braska's dreams were filled with visions of sand and sun.  Cid had taken the sphere from him three months ago and not returned.  Rin's father visited with shipments of supplies for the shop but didn't bring his son or Cid.  Instead, he had two new helpers.

In two weeks, Braska was to be ordained.  He would be a priest of Yevon.  The council had approved him in spite of his censure and wanted him to go to Bevelle.  Though it made him proud that they thought him worthy to address the Fayth, he was miserable.  He didn't want to leave Djose.  It was the only home he had ever known.

Tossing in his bed, the young man dreamed.  Night after night, he walked the desert sands with a beautiful young girl.  She smiled and laughed.  They ran over the dunes together until they came to an oasis.  Then they sat and talked while they soaked their feet in the water.  The sun would set and they would lie on their backs to stare upward at the stars.  Braska would point out constellations as they held hands.  It seemed so real.

One morning, after a particularly vivid dream, Braska made up his mind.  He wasn't going to stay in Djose, but he wouldn't go to Bevelle. No matter where it led him, he wanted to be with his friends and to see the golden sands from the sphere.  Home was calling.

~~~~~
And now she turns
This way she moves in the logic of all my dreams
~~~~~

"I respectfully request permission to leave the temple."

The council of elders was perplexed.  The young man had no living relatives and was a gifted healer.  While he was sometimes absent minded, he was bright and devoted to his faith.

"Braska, why do you wish to leave us?  Where will you be going?"

The young man knew he couldn't tell the whole truth.  He didn't want to believe what Cid had said, but he wouldn't betray what his friend obviously thought of as a confidence. 

"I am no longer sure that I wish to be a priest.  I still believe in Yevon, but I am not certain that I am called to serve."

An old man on the council who had been a friend of Braska's father said, "Son, is this because of your censure?"

Braska closed his eyes.  "In part.  I do not feel what I did was wrong.  I am unrepentant.  Given the opportunity, I would seek out more Al Bhed and attempt to learn more of them and their ways.  If this is wrong, if this is against my church, then how can I dedicate myself as a priest of Yevon?"

The old priest continued to probe.  "And where will you go?"

"I wish to travel Spira."

The three men that sat in council put their heads together and whispered for a few moments.  Braska waited nervously in the cold stone chamber as they consulted.  Finally, one of them spoke.  "Braska, I think that I may speak for all of us when I say that you are a special young man.  We do not wish for you to leave the Church in haste or turn aside from your path when the first obstacle is placed in your way.  However, we do believe that you have thought this through.

"You have leave to go – and the option to return to us.  If, before a year has passed, you find that your path lies with the priesthood we will welcome your return."

Braska stood there before them, blinking. 

"May Yevon guide you, Braska.  We wish you good journey."

~~~~~
This fire burns
I realize that nothing's as it seems
~~~~~

It was dangerous to travel alone.  Braska waited in Djose almost a week until a group of warrior monks left on patrol.  His healing skills were tested several times as the group fought fiends along the Mushroom Rock road.  Though Braska's fighting skills were not nearly as advanced as his companions, they were happy to have him and he saved the life of more than one warrior on the trip.  By the time he reached the Mi'ihen the group was sad to loose both his skills and his companionship.

Facing the road alone for the first time, Braska felt a bit nervous.  The path was well protected by the Chocobo knights, but fiends were still present.  Spying a young woman next to a pen, he decided that speed was best and used some of his meager funds to rent a chocobo.  The speedy little bird was friendly and well trained.  In no time, he reached the Al Bhed store and asked after his friends.  There was no news. 

Unable to afford a room for the night, Braska simply wrote a short letter for Cid and left it with the young woman tending the shop.  He tried not to worry, but was a bit afraid that he might not find a way to reach Home.  He had hoped to find some way to contact someone before he reached Luca.  He had little gill and prayed to Yevon that he would manage to find his way before it ran out entirely.

Finally, after almost two weeks, Braska reached Luca.  It was overwhelming.  Large and teeming with more people than the young man had ever seen in one place, he could hardly believe his eyes.  It was amazing!  Bright banners streamers and balloons colored the skies.  The people themselves were no less colorful.  Dressed in vibrant costumes the inhabitants of the city were loud and boisterous.  While he had met several Hypello and even seen a Guado once, he had never encountered a Ronso.  The huge furry beings with their horns and tails seemed to tower over everyone and everything.  Agape, the young man almost got in a fight with one for gawking.  After several apologies, many bows, and a lot of fast explaining; the cat-man decided that Braska was not worth his time and left him be.

When he reached the market, sellers practically accosted Braska with objects he was told he could not live without.   Fruits, vegetables, fish and flowers of types he had never seen before met him at every turn.  Craftsmen and artisans sold shoes, clothing, pottery, furniture, weapons, and armor.  The clamor of the haggling between sellers and buyers only added to the scene.  Besieged by a pair of young people insisting that he must buy cheese, he selected a small wheel and then quickly left the market area.

Everywhere he went he could hear arguments about blitzball.  Exhibition games for the semi-annual tournaments began in a week, and everyone from children to old men had opinions.  Braska had never played, though several of the temple priests were avid fans and one had even been part of a team in his youth.  Without access to a sphere, the waters off the Mushroom Rock road were the closest thing to a practice field.  Since the road was not very safe to travel, it was rare for anyone from Djose to truly learn to blitz.

To conserve money Braska slept in the public parks at night while he tried to make contact with the Al Bhed.  Finally, after four long days, luck was with him.  A transport holding the blitzball team arrived and one of the young women was a friend of Rin's.  She vouched for Braska and he managed to barter his healing skills and willingness to work against a place on the boat.  Still, he had no way of knowing if he would ever be allowed off the ship.  The captain made it clear that, if his story didn't hold, he would never return to tell the location of the Al Bhed stronghold.

Putting his faith and trust in his God, Braska accepted the conditions.  A few days later, he was on his way to Home.

The desert was so much hotter than he imagined.  Harsh and unyielding, Braska quickly understood why the Al Bhed all had dark tinted goggles – it wasn't to hide their strange swirled eyes from others, it was to protect them from the blinding effects of sun and sand.  His heavy robes quickly became more than a detriment as he trudged over the dunes.  Several times he thought to abandon the clothing but then thought better of it – better to be hot than to allow the suns rays to fry his pale skin. 

At last, they reached the outpost.  A huge town of tents surrounded a small pond.  Far in the distance, Braska could see large tower shapes rising out of the landscape.  Equipment and people crawled over the construction site.  A complex grid of ditches and pipes created an area where food could be grown.  Tall poles held tarps to shield the more sensitive plants from the harsh mid-day sun.  The scale of what was being attempted astounded him.

Forced to wait at gunpoint, the young man prayed fervently to Yevon that Cid or Rin would be there.  When Cid finally appeared and embraced Braska like a brother, he was so relieved he almost cried.  Guns lowered, but people continued to stare at the strangely dressed person now in their midst.  Braska felt a bit self-conscious, but was certain he had done the right thing. 

~~~~~
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
~~~~~

"Why can't I do this?"

Braska, dressed in cast-off pair of Cid's old pants and shirt that Rin had given him, sighed deeply at the inanimate hunk of metal on the table.  The tiny form had appendages – two legs and two arms with claws.  The young man poked at it with a finger. 

Cid laughed at the gesture.  "Because you don't pay attention.  You have to be sure that the electric current flows through the wires correctly."  The blond man flicked open a small compartment on the robot's 'head' and looked inside.  "See," he said, "You've got the black wire and the green wires crossed again."  A finger pointed inside at the tangle of circuits and leads.

"I'm hopeless."  Braska propped his elbows on the table and placed his head in his hands.  "Your sister is better at this than I am!"

"Cheer up!"  Cid elbowed him in the side and chuckled.  "At least it LOOKS like a mech this time.  Last time it looked like something a sand wolf spit up."

"Jano vihho."  Braska looked up at his friend.  "I have to find some way to support myself, Cid.  I can't keep living here with your family.  Even if you had enough room, the talk in the village…"

Cid cut him off.  "I don't care about the talk, and neither does father!  I don't want to hear anymore of that out of you."

"It's not right."  Braska continued to press his position.  "I should earn my keep.  At least I don't kill the plants in the garden."

Shaking his head, Cid put a hand to Braska's shoulder.  "Give yourself time.  You've only been here four months."

Braska nodded.  He knew his friend was right.  It would take time to learn and he had to be patient.

"Bid ed yfyo.  Rin and the others are getting together for a bit of Blitz.  How about a game to take your mind off this." 

Smiling, Braska replied, "Are you sure you really want me to play?  Last time I cost the team a winning goal."

"Of course!  You're never going to fit in if you can't Blitz you idiot!"

~~~~~
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
~~~~~

Though Braska had moments of happiness living with Cid and his family, he always felt self-conscious.  The other Al Bhed were suspicious of him and his motives.  No matter how he tried, he was always just a Yevonite to them.

Braska couldn't help noticing the arguments Cid's father, Dallus, had with other men in the village.  They were always about the same thing – sending Braska away or even killing him.  Rin's father, Aniki, was the only person that supported Braska's staying.  No one seemed to care that the young Yevonite overheard the harsh words and threats.  It was as though he did not exist.  He was a problem, not a person, in their eyes.

The incidents made Braska sad, but he recognized the kind of issue he represented.  Just as Yevonites feared and misunderstood the ways of the Al Bhed, so to the Al Bhed feared the ways of the Church.  It only reinforced his thinking that the conflict between the two peoples was nothing more than a lack of communication.  He became determined to become a link between the two races that would bring a lasting peace.

Since he could use machina quite well, but was terrible at creating or repairing them, Braska spent much of his time tending to the gardens and helping care for the village children.  Many of the parents disliked having Braska near their children, but they didn't dare cross Dallus – he was their leader and his friend Aniki brought in the gil and supplies from outside that made living in their harsh environment possible.  Tending to the growing plants and people helped Braska to feel he was earning his way.  He particularly enjoyed the time he spent playing with the children.  There had never been time for play at the temple when he was young and learning the songs and games of the young Al Bhed was a delight to the kind hearted young man. 

In an effort to put his talents to use, Braska tried to offer his skills as a healer.  The Al Bhed had several healers in the village.  They called them "tuldun," and they were highly respected.   Though they made potions and used herbs as Braska had been taught, they also used machina to diagnose and treat their patients.  He was fascinated and burned to learn this new way of healing.  It took persistence, but Braska finally gained the trust of one of these men so he could study the Al Bhed methods of healing. 

While he did his best to help, few would allow a Yevonite to touch them.  Even fewer would allow him to observe as they consulted with their tuldun.  Healing was Braska's art and there were few he knew who could match his skills.  There were things the Al Bhed doctors could not find cures for  - poisons and viruses - that the young man could simply dispel with a few words.  It was frustrating. 

It was only when young Nyeh came home one day in tears that he realized he could no longer stay.  The ten-year-old girl had rushed home and into Braska's arms after getting in a fight with her friends.  Between sobs, she told him that the other children made fun of him and that she didn't want to play with them anymore because of it.  She fiercely said that anyone who didn't like Braska was mean.  The little girl had attached herself to Braska from the moment of his arrival and seeing tears in her swirled emerald eyes broke his heart.  He could stand the ostracism and he didn't worry for Cid, Rin, or their parents.  But knowing that Nyeh might become outcast and friendless because of him was just too much.  Braska's own childhood had been filled with such loneliness and he couldn't bear being the cause of it for another.

Knowing he could bring nothing but strife and unhappiness to the people he loved, he went to Aniki and asked to go with him the next time he took supplies to the stores on the mainland.  The man was surprised and questioned Braska's decision, but finally agreed.  Rin overheard and tried to get his friend to stay, but Braska wouldn't listen.  All he knew was that Nyeh had cried because of him and he was never going to let it happen again.

Braska didn't say goodbye – it was too difficult.  Instead, he packed his things in the night and left a sphere.  He thanked Cid and his family for their kindness and said he had decided to go back and become a priest.  He told them that he loved them all very much and that he wanted to find a way to bridge the gap between the Al Bhed and the Church.  He begged them to understand and to know that they would now have an ally that would speak for their people among the Yevonites.  He promised he would return one day.

~~~~~
I dream of rain
I lift my gaze to empty skies above
I close my eyes, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of her love
~~~~~

It had been five years since Braska returned from Sanubia and took his vows.  The year he spent with the Al Bhed changed him and it changed the way others in the Church viewed him.  He was thought of as a rebel now – a rogue priest who walked a fine line between orthodoxy and heresy.  His constant calls for tolerance and reform rubbed many members of the hierarchy the wrong way and polarized already existing divisions.

Braska's political positions were the least of the issues.  The people flocked to him.  Kind and gentle, idealistic Braska wandered Spira as a loose cannon.  He helped people out of the goodness of his heart and in doing so they listened to them.  No request for assistance ever went unanswered.  It did not matter if you never attended church services, or if your eyes had swirled irises.  It did not matter to him if you were covered in fur, had webbed feet, or were long limbed with veined skin.  He never discriminated in any way.  Lord Braska ministered to all the people of Spira and they loved him in return.  Rolling up his sleeves, he helped farmers as readily as he used his healing skills to tend the sick.  Never aloof or restrained, wherever Braska went he told people about his friends - the Al Bhed. 

The people loved him.

Back at the temples, priests and monks whispered behind his back.  Some were bold enough to tell him to his face that he was a heretic – a heathen lover who diluted the teachings and spread dissent.  By pointing out the contradictions of Church law, Braska made it difficult for those in power to control the masses.  It did nothing to ingratiate him to the establishment.  Thinking him a mere annoyance – a headstrong teenager that would swiftly fall in line – they waited too long.  Instead of going to St. Bevelle after ordination as requested, Braska wandered the world and spread his ideas.  Soon, the man was well known for both his kind acts and his radical politics.  It was too late to silence him.

It was Braska's restlessness that drove his actions.  Realizing he was a man torn between two worlds, he was obsessed with finding a way to end the years of hatred between the Church of Yevon and the Al Bhed.  He could never be complete until that day arrived.  He missed his friends and the sands of Home and longed to return.

So he wandered.  And as he did so he would sometimes see Aniki or Rin at a travel stop.  Ravenous for news, he would assist them at the store and eat dinner in their company.  Always kind, the pair was happy to tell him news of Cid and his family.  They shared details of construction and harvest, of marriages and deaths, and of Cid's infamous quests to find lost technology.  On several occasions, Braska wrote letters or recorded spheres for them to take back with them.  There were never any replies.

Then, one day, Braska saw Rin in Luca.  After quick hugs and salutations, the blond man delivered his news.  He had come looking for Braska.  Cid's father was dead.

~~~~~
I dream of rain
I dream of gardens in the desert sand
~~~~~

"[Cid], E ys cu cunno.  Fryd syo E tu?  Damm sa." 

Braska stood before his friend with his arms outstretched.  He could hardly believe the changes in five years - not just the buildings that towered from the sands, the vast array of machina, or the way the population of Home had grown.  What shocked him most were the changes in Cid.

Gone was the headstrong youth he had known.  In his place, there stood a powerful man.  Cid had shaved his head in the intervening years and now sported a traditional tattoo instead of a wild mohawk.  His lean frame had filled out into a stocky barrel-chested physique with strong lines and well-defined muscles.  The tenor of Cid's youthful voice had long since vanished and turned to a rumble of gruff baritone that was obviously accustomed to command.  His bearing was almost intimidating.

For a moment, Braska wondered what Cid might do.  The Al Bhed, almost a stranger to him now, stood before the priest with an odd expression on his face.  Then, as though some barrier had suddenly been removed, Cid was clasping Braska to him in a tight embrace. 

"Oui'ja kud y mud uv hanja, crufehk ib mega drec yvdan ymm draca oaync."  Cid whispered the words harshly into Braska's ear as he held him.  "But then, you always were a trouble maker."

Braska nodded.  "Oui cruimt rayn fryd drao lymm sa huf!"

The two men laughed as they cried.

~~~~~
I wake in pain
I dream of love as time runs through my hand
~~~~~

What he thought would be a simple visit turned into almost three years.  This time, Braska refused Cid's offers to live with his family.  Now head of his own household, and with a baby on the way, the newly appointed leader of the Al Bhed nation was displeased by the negative response.  However, there was nothing to be done.  Braska insisted. 

Instead of living in the new buildings, the priest went back to the old campsite near the oasis and put up a tent.  Tending again to the gardens, he was an oddity and his unobtrusive presence caused a wave of curiosity.  At first, people simply watched him from afar, but after a few weeks, they actually began to visit him and question him.  Some of the young children he had played with years before were teenagers now and they came to say hello.  The tuldun he had apprenticed with offered again to teach him.  Before long, Braska had a long stream of visitors when he worked in the fields or during the dinner hour. 

His first, and most frequent visitor was Nyeh.  Bringing him a small mech toy and a set of tools she said, "Oui mavd drec pareht.  E gabd ed vun oui."

At least three times a week, the sixteen-year-old would come to eat dinner with Braska.  Sometimes Cid would come with her, but most of the time she was alone.  Conversations that first began with light questioning about the mainland of Spira, soon changed in nature.  Nyeh had a quick mind and she asked probing and pointed questions about the Church and Braska's faith.  She wanted to learn Braska's language.  It reminded him of the early days of his friendship with Cid and Rin.

Months passed.  Braska's skin tanned and he put away his priest's robes to wear the garb of the Al Bhed once more.  He never "preached" or tried to push his views on anyone who visited him.  Yet, somehow, conversations with Braska seemed to turn to the ideas of peace and harmony.  He often told stories of people he met and how he dispelled myths among his own people about the Al Bhed and their ways.  Sometimes the tales brought laughter.  Other times, they brought thoughtful silence and contemplation.  Always, Braska tried to show in some way that belief in Yevon did not make a person intolerant – ignorance made a person intolerant.

After a year, he had his first converts. 

Rin and his father felt that Braska's message was an important one.  Being on the continent most of the time, they realized the strides that the young man was making among his own people.  While neither was under the illusion that change might come in their lifetimes, they knew that beginnings were important.  When they came to Braska and told them they wished to convert, he was honestly shocked.  However, he quickly recovered and agreed to begin formal services once a week.

It wasn't long before almost a dozen Al Bhed were regularly attending Braska's "services."  They were an informal affair.  To begin he always sang the Hymn of Prayer.  The strong clear tenor of his voice was not alone for long.  His new "followers" quickly picked up the simple words and easy tones.  Soon they spread it through the tribe and Braska was surprised one afternoon to hear a young woman humming the song as she worked in the fields.  Instead of giving sermons, he taught the history of the Church and its laws.  Seated together in a circle the group would discuss the differences in Al Bhed and Yevonite history.  Sometimes heated arguments erupted.  Ultimately, Braska's little group went away thinking and spreading knowledge.

He was pleased.

Cid, however, was not.  On several occasions, he went to visit Braska and the two had words.  Always at loggerheads since the beginning of their friendship because of the Church, the pair didn't hold back.  On several occasions, it might have come to blows but for Braska's refusal to take the bait.  The Law of Yevon said that to strike another person in anger was a Sinful thing and the young priest would instead embrace the man he thought of as a brother.  This method of ending their arguments never resolved the underlying issues, but it did manage to hold off the inevitable for another year.

~~~~~
Sweet desert rose
Each of her veils, a secret promise
~~~~~

The final straw for Cid came when the Al Bhed found out his sister was attending Braska's meetings.  "Fryd eh dra ramm tu oui drehg oui'na tuehk?"  Cid was livid.  "If people want to sing some stupid song, I'm not going to stop them.  If they come out here to listen to your hair-brained ideas that the Church will actually accept them, it's none of my concern.  But when you start messing with my sister and making it impossible for her to find a husband I draw the line!"

"I would never do anything to hurt Nyeh!  You know that!"  Cid's mention of his sister's eligibility made Braska flush, but it wasn't from anger.  The soft spot in his heart for the child he knew was changing day by day.  Sometimes, it was confusing.  The little girl he played with was growing into a woman – a very attractive woman – and Braska found himself glancing at her in a way that was decidedly unbrotherly.  He wasn't sure, but he thought the reason she spent so much time with him was because she felt the same.  Still, Braska knew that any feelings they might have for one another would only lead to pain.  Cid, while his friend, would never accept him as a brother-in-law.  If the idea that the leader of the Al Bhed nation would have a Yevonite convert in his family drove the man to distraction, what would he say to a half-breed niece or nephew?

A few days after Cid's visit, Braska talked to Nyeh.  He told her that he would be spending more time with the healers.  Making as many excuses as possible, and rambling as he did so, he finally told the young woman not to come for dinner anymore.  The look of hurt and disappointment on her face was difficult to see.  Soft brunette hair fell forward to obscure her delicate face and brilliant green eyes as she dipped her head low.  Braska saw a tear fall off her nose.

He couldn't help himself.  Seeing Nyeh cry was too much.  Braska reached out softly to brush away the dampness from her face.  "Bmayca, tuh'd lno.  E uhmo fyhd oui du pa rybbo - du veht cusauha amca."

The young woman's head jerked up sharply, her expression defiant.  "Drana ryc hajan paah yhouha amca vun sa.  Drana hajan femm pa."

Before Braska knew it, their lips met.  Once the kiss began, there was nothing that could stop it.  Smitten by Braska since childhood, Nyeh quickly made up for her lack of experience with fervor.  Braska, despite his knowledge of the consequences, couldn't hold back.  For months the two had danced around one another with long glances, hesitant touches, and awkward silences; now the floodgates were open.

That night, Nyeh didn't go home.  As the young woman lay sleeping in Braska's arms, he felt a contentment he had never known.  Here was the home he had searched for all these years – here in Nyeh's embrace.  Smiling he studied her peaceful, resting form in the darkness.  He wanted nothing more than to be with her.

The next several weeks became a blur.  As often as she could, Nyeh slipped away to be with Braska.  She repaired and washed his clothes, put flowers in his tent, and did her best to make it more of a home.  Unsure how to break the news to Cid, Nyeh insisted that Braska wait to ask for her hand.  He disliked it and didn't want to hide their relationship, but Nyeh argued that they had to be careful about how her brother got the news.  So, the young man waited and tried to keep secret the intense need and longing he felt as he worked beside her.  Daytime was a form of torture as they tended the gardens in the company of others.  Nights were heaven, and the two would swim together in the warm waters of the oasis and lie together under the stars.  They could hardly keep their hands from one another.

In spite of his happiness, Braska was troubled about the future.  As far as the young man was concerned, Nyeh was his wife.  Though there had been no ceremony, she was his in deed if not in word.  Often he would lie awake on the cot next to Nyeh unable to sleep; his mind racing.  How could he quell Cid's almost certain anger?

One morning, before dawn, he slipped quietly from bed.  The time had come and he would wait no longer.  He had to see Cid.

~~~~~
This desert flower,
No sweet perfume ever tortured me more than this
~~~~~

"No."

Braska had expected Cid to explode in anger.  He had been prepared for that.  Lying awake at night, he had played through imaginary arguments and tried to find answers for every possible objection.  Never, during his hours of worried contemplation, had he considered the reaction he received. 

There were no heated words when Braska told Cid he was in love with Nyeh.  There was only stoic silence as the priest asked for permission to marry her.  Cid stood there, completely unsurprised and simply told him no. 

"Cid, banrybc E ryja hud syta dra cediydeuh lmayn.  Yd drec buehd, dra lanasuho femm pa pid y vunsymedo."  Braska stood before his friend, resolute.  The man's wife was in the other room tending to their infant son.

"I heard you," Cid said placidly.  "The answer is still no."

Braska had no idea what to say.  His heart hammered in his chest.  All he could think of was Nyeh lying asleep in his tent and he had to find a way.  "Cid, I love her and she loves me!"

"And by tomorrow, you will be gone."

The words were a simple statement of fact.  There was no malice, no anger in Cid's tone. 

"What?"  Braska stood there in shock.

Cid's reply was full of contempt.  "Do you think I didn't know about the two of you?  Do you think I haven't shielded you as my father did years ago?  When you started those fool meetings, when Rin and Aniki converted, I caught hell for it.  People wanted you gone, or better yet dead.  After this, there is no way I can protect you." 

Four men came into the room.  They were armed with guns.  Surrounding Braska, one of them raised a weapon and cocked the hammer back. 

"Don't make this more difficult than it has to be, Braska."  Cid seemed almost sad.  "Just go with them to the transport."

"What about Nyeh!"  Braska's desperation was clear.  Trembling, tears began to well in his eyes.  He couldn't just leave Nyeh this way; asleep and alone without a goodbye.

"She stays where she belongs - with her people."

There was nothing Braska could do.  "Cid..."

His friend cut him off.  Gesturing to the guards, Cid made it clear the conversation was over.  "Go, Braska, and don't come back."

Hanging his head in sorrow, Braska did as he was told.  To do otherwise would have meant his death. 

~~~~~
Sweet desert rose
The memory of Eden haunts us all
~~~~~

Lying on the cold metal bunk in the transport, Braska cried silently.  He was miserable.  Placed on a hovercraft under guard, he was quickly skimmed across the sands of Sanubia to a transport waiting in the harbor.  Requests to allow him to write a letter to Nyeh were met with stony silence.  The captain had someone toss him, unceremoniously, into the hold to await ships departure in the morning.

Braska had only felt this alone once in his life.  The day his parents had left for pilgrimage he had cried himself sick.  He thought that he would never feel that kind of pain again.  He was wrong.

Exhausted, Braska finally fell into a fitful sleep full of unhappy dreams.  Waking several times with damp eyes, he finally gave up any attempt at rest and went to kneel in a far corner.  He prayed.

There was no way to know what time it was.  After what seemed like hours, he heard activity outside his compartment.  A few moments later, the hum of the engines began to reverberate through the ship.  Any hope Braska had died as it lurched into motion.  The rocking gradually leveled off, telling him that they had reached deep water.  Braska was just about to lie down on the bunk when the lock on the door was unlatched.  A small figure, completely clad in a jumpsuit and mask, stepped into the hold.  The Al Bhed threw a duffle at Braska and waited near the doorway.

"Ouin lmudrehk."

Braska's eyes flashed open at the words.  "Nyeh?"

The figure took off the mask.  In seconds, Braska was across the compartment and holding the young woman in his arms.  Showering her with kisses, he clung to her tightly in relief.  "I can't believe Cid let you come!"

Nyeh's face fell.  "Hu, so muja.  E nyh yfyo."

"Oh, Nyeh, no!"  The expression of joy on Braska's face swiftly turned to one of dismay.  "Cid will never understand!  You have to go back!"

"I can't."

"You must!"  Braska logically explained his position.  "In time, we can make him understand, Nyeh.  But, if you simply run away, Cid will only be angry.  He will blame me and it will undo everything I have worked for these last three years."

"Braska."  Nyeh placed one hand to Braska's lips to still him and quietly took hold of his right hand with the other.  Smiling softly, she placed it to her midsection.  "I must do what is best for all of us."

The realization hit.  Braska stood before his love with his mouth hanging open.  Swallowing, his expression shifted from one of shocked comprehension to a smile so bright it could have lit the world.  Tears of joy fell down his face and he crushed the young woman to him possessively.  "Nyeh!  How long have you known!?  Why didn't you tell me!"

"I was going to tell you this morning, but you left."  Nyeh clung to Braska's neck, nuzzling affectionately against him.  "It must have been that first night.  The tuldun says I am a month gone."

Withdrawing slightly, Braska tilted Nyeh's head upward and gazed deeply into her swirled green eyes.  Part of him was filled with sorrow.  He knew the kind of hardships they would face when they reached the shore.  His people would reject the union, and ridicule them both.  Their child would face the stigma of being a half-breed and likely be a social outcast.  Nyeh might never again see her family or the sands of the land where she was born.

Yet, in spite of all that, Braska knew they would be all right.  Though the road ahead might be difficult for them both, they would face it together and be a safe harbor for one another when times got tough.  Somehow, they would overcome the prejudices of their respective peoples and become an example for Spira.  This was what truly mattered – love. 

~~~~~
This desert flower, this rare perfume
Is the sweet intoxication of the fall
~~~~~

Braska held Nyeh close and whispered softly to her.  The Al Bhed transport was waiting.

"Be careful, muja.  I will miss you every day."

It had been six years since the pair had arrived in Bevelle, friendless and outcast.  In that time, they had hardly left one another's side for more than a few hours.  Braska had been publicly censured for his outspoken positions and the audacity of marrying an Al Bhed.  Nyeh had been disowned and exiled.  A terse letter from Cid washed his hands of the pair and made it clear that if they ever returned to the shores of Sanubia they would be shot on sight.

In spite of the hardships, they built a good life together.  Braska opened a small shop in the Bevelle market where he sold potions and offered his services as a healer.  While they never had much gil, and often struggled to make ends meet, their home was a happy one.  They relied on one another and showered their small daughter, Yuna, with love and affection.  While they had hoped to give the young girl the companionship of siblings, Yevon seemed to have other plans and Nyeh did not conceive.

Then, one day, Rin came to visit.  His father had passed away and the blond Al Bhed now directed the business interests of his family.  After several hours of friendly chat, Rin withdrew a small piece of parchment.  It was a note from Cid.  He wanted to see Nyeh.

That night, after Rin left and Yuna had been put to bed, the pair discussed the situation.  Lying in bed, they debated if Nyeh should go.  Braska was firm in his insistence that she should.  He felt that family was the most important thing of all and encouraged his wife to repair the strained relationship with her brother.

Nyeh, on the other hand, noted that the invitation was not for all of them and felt offended.  She put forward the argument that unless Cid wanted to accept them all that she had no desire to attempt reconciliation.  Nyeh felt the whole family should go, or not at all.

Finally, the pair settled on a compromise.  Nyeh would go alone for a short visit and see what Cid really wanted.  If all went well, the entire family would make the next trip.  If things went badly, Nyeh would make it clear that any future invitation should be extended to the entire family or it would be rejected.

Two days later, the little family stood on a dock in the harbor of St. Bevelle.  Little Yuna hugged her mother's leg as she and Braska said their goodbyes.  Finally, Nyeh knelt and kissed her child on the head.  "I love you, darling.  I promise to be home soon.  Be good."

Yuna stood on the pier holding her father's hand.  She waved to the ship until it was out of sight.  It was the last time the little family was every together.  Sin attacked the transport and everyone aboard was lost.

Braska never stopped grieving.

~~~~~
It has been a long time
I am looking for myself, my love
I am looking for myself, my love
I am looking for myself, my love
~~~~~

"I love you very much, Yuna."

Braska stood, tall and stately, before his daughter.  The sun had not yet risen and the chill of the morning air lent crispness to the edges of the dawn.  Summoner's staff in hand, his guardians waited a respectful distance away; giving the man time to say goodbye.

"Daddy!  Please don't leave me!"  The young girl sniffled and tears fell from her eyes.  She flung her tiny arms around her father's legs and clung to him. 

Long slender fingers stroked Yuna's soft brown hair in sadness.  Braska hated to see her cry, but he was resolved.  Sin had to be stopped.  He had to protect his precious daughter – she was all he had left of his wife.

"Yuna, darling, please don't cry."  Braska took hold of the little arms and separated himself from the tiny form.  Kneeling before her, he rubbed his nose affectionately against the little girl's.  "I will always be right here," he said as he pressed an extended finger to her chest, "right here in your heart."

Yuna made choked little noises as she cried.  "Really?"

Braska smiled as he looked into his daughter's mismatched eyes – one blue like his and the other brilliant Al Bhed green.  "Yes.  I will always love you, Yuna.  Always."

"Lord Braska."  Auron's voice floated across the courtyard.  "It is time."

Steeling himself, Braska took a deep breath and stood.  Yuna looked up at him adoringly and it cut the Summoner to the quick.  The girl looked so much like her mother that it sometimes hurt to look at her.  In those moments, Braska found his greatest source of strength. A year ago, he had said goodbye to his wife, never to see her again.  Now, he said goodbye to the last link he had with the love of his life.  Never again would Sin take the life of someone he loved.  Never.

"Remember, Yuna.  You are the daughter of a Summoner.  You must set an example for all others and be a light to the people.  Do not cry.  What I do today, I do for you."

Turning his back to Yuna, Braska gracefully walked away.  He didn't look back.  He couldn't.  A single tear tracked down his face as he went to join his guardians. 

"Ymfyoc so muja.  Ymfyoc…"

~~~~~
My life is for you
You are my life
There is nothing else but you
Only you
~~~~~